Black Lace
by Standbackufools
Summary: Emma and Henry find a way around the 'no visiting' rule involving binoculars and the walkie talkie. Emma's attention is fully on her son, she truly doesn't intend to watch Regina at all. At least until the mayor begins undressing in front of her window..
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Black Lace

**Pairing:** Swan Queen... sort of?

**Rating:** NC-17.

**A/N:** Written for a prompt on the OUaT kinkmeme:

_Emma is walking by the Mayors house and she can see inside the bedroom._

_Regina is changing and Emma watches._

_Bonus point if: Regina realizes Emma is watching and puts up a show._

_Super bonus point if : You turn it into voyeurism :-) Regina puts on a show and masturbates while Emma watches._

**Disclaimer: **Dont own 'em. Wish I did

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><p>It was later in the evening than she'd wanted. Probably too late, but she had to check. With a frustrated jerk against the gear shift, she parked the squad car and reached for her binoculars.<p>

_"You're going to stay away from me, Miss Swan. And more importantly, from Henry."_

She shook herself, as if to clear the memory from echoing around another time in her head. It had been a week since she and Sidney had so disastrously confronted the mayor at the city council meeting. And in that time, she hadn't been able to see Henry in any ways that didn't involve the binoculars and walkie talkie. Both of which were in Emma's hands as she closed the door of her car as quietly as possible.

She wasn't entirely sure Regina didn't know about the walkie talkies, too. Every so often Henry's end seemed to break up and get interference from a pentecostal radio station. One moment her son had been going on about Operation Cobra and the next someone she'd never met was telling her she would surely burn in hell with the rest of the unmarried fornicators.

It was probably only a coincidence, but it was tempting to blame on the mayor, anyway. Emma wouldn't put it past her.

_"You have no idea what I'm capable of."_

Dammit, not again. With an irritated sigh, she cursed her mind, and took up her usual position. Quickly, she focused the binoculars on the house across the street. Her position had been carefully chosen- when it was very dark out, the row of hedges hid her quite nicely. Convenient of Regina to plant those there, really. _One window up, two over..._

Having watched her approach, Henry waved to her from his window, and then waved his walkie talkie, indicating she should turn hers on. Emma smiled in spite of herself, and did so. "Kid, you should really be in bed," she opened.

"I am! Well, I was. Kinda. But it doesn't matter, I had to see you first," came the slightly garbled but still very excited reply. "I knew you'd come by."

"Where's your mom?" It was always the first question; the most important, since the imposed no-visiting rule. If Regina was downstairs, it was okay- they could talk for a while. But if she was upstairs... Emma moved the binoculars away from Henry's window and directed them at the windows on the lower level, seeking out the mayor and hoping to find her.

"Down in the study, I think. Can't you see her?"

More frantically now, Emma searched the house, looking for any signs of movement. The study was empty, as was the dining room, the stairs, the hall... Something moved. The light on the porch flicked off. A shadow preceded her, and then Regina Mills entered her line of sight through the windows of the foyer, turning off lights as she left rooms. "She's in the hall," Emma relayed to her son. And then swore, but not over the walkie. "...Crap, kid. She's heading for the stairs. Get in bed!"

She looked back to Henry's window, watched him hurriedly back away from the window and leap under the covers. "Talk to you tomorrow!" he quickly hissed back before the walkie went dead.

Emma brought the binoculars back to the hall and waited with bated breath as Regina left her line of sight and headed up the stairs. There were no windows in that part of the house, so if she'd heard anything, the mayor would head left to Henry's room, if not...

Though the curtains were drawn, it was obvious when the light in Regina's bedroom turned on, and the sheriff breathed a sigh of relief. The mayor was making an early night of it, apparently. Briefly, she considered just hanging around. If Regina fell asleep quickly enough, she could still talk to Henry... She shook her head. It was too risky, and the kid needed his sleep. Better to just go home and try again tomorrow.

She put the walkie in the pocket of her leather jacket. Lowering the binoculars, she turned to go. The lighting around her suddenly increased. "Shit!" she hissed again, and ducked behind the bushes. Had Regina installed a floodlight?

No, it wasn't that much light... She poked her head up briefly. The mayor had just opened her curtains. She was turned away from the window, though, and sipped from a glass of something. Emma breathed again. She hadn't been seen.

Emma waited for a few moments before moving again, just to be sure. Henry's room stayed dark, she was glad to notice. Her eyes flitted back to Regina's window. The mayor had set her glass down at some point. Still she faced away from the window, and her hand reached behind herself, grabbing the top of her zipper.

Emma gaped.

_What the hell is she doing undressing in front of the window?_ She thought for an irrational moment, before remembering that this wasn't Boston. The mayor's house was in a block by itself. No one was usually around at this time of night. There was no real need to worry about peeping Toms.

Unless they were Emma Swan, apparently.

Without even really knowing why, the blonde raised the binoculars again like a high school teenager, and watched as the two sides of the mayor's dress parted from one another, revealing the smooth skin of her back. The garment seemed to hover there, connected by an invisible strand and almost desperately clinging to the curves of her backside. Finally, Regina shrugged out of it completely, and the dress slid to the floor in a slow puddle of silk or whatever it was made out of.

If she'd thought about it, Emma would realize that she should have expected the lace. Black, of course, like everything else. She would not, however, have bet on the garters in lieu of nylons.

Emma thought about lowering the binoculars, about getting back to her car and heading home. She didn't. Instead the tip of her tongue parted her suddenly dry lips. _This is crazy. I should go. I shouldn't still be... I definitely shouldn't be watching... Just get back to the car, start the engine, and get out of here. Quietly._

She didn't.

Bending over to unclip them, the mayor presented her unknown audience with a perfect view of her lace-covered ass. Emma felt her jaw drop, and any thoughts of leaving flew out of her head. Before this, she'd have grudgingly admitted Regina was attractive, if she had to. But... damn... Rolling down one stocking, the mayor stepped out of it, and turned a little towards the window to slowly begin the process of removing the other. It slid gradually down the skin of her leg as if she were effortlessly removing her own shadow. Her cleavage drew Emma's gaze next, and she found herself adjusting the focus on the binoculars to get a clearer image.

God, what would Regina say if she knew?

_"You're gonna leave me, aren't you?"_

No. Not that. Emma swore under her breath and pressed the binoculars closer to her eyes. Her own memory was taunting her. Again.

The stockings were gone, and soon after the belt that had attached them. Regina reached around herself, unclasping her bra one hook at a time. It, like the dress, seemed to resist coming off of her immediately. The straps came loose, falling down her shoulders in a slow decline.

Captivated, the sheriff found herself leaning a little closer to the hedge, almost falling into it. She didn't care.

Finally, the undergarment fell away. And Emma fell into the bush.

"Oof!" Tripping into the shrubbery had not exactly been on Emma's mind when she'd left the house this evening. Of course, neither had unintentionally staring at her son's adopted mother as she took off her clothes. And as she pulled herself out of the bush, Emma was almost more upset that she was missing some of the 'show' than that she'd fallen over. Stumbling back to a semi-upright position, Emma crouched down behind the bush and re-centered herself so she wouldn't fall again. Not when the round curve of Regina's bare breasts had just come into view.

She raised the binoculars to her eyes again and just stared. Emma had had her share of encounters with other women (she wouldn't call anything she'd ever had a 'relationship' by a long shot), and while she could certainly admire the softness of another woman's body, she'd never really considered herself a breast girl. But she might learn to make an exception...

Regina was still half-turned towards the window, the lamplight playing well over the newly-revealed skin of her chest. Her back arched, exposing her chest even more fully as she stretched. The mayor seemed to be enjoying her braless state, a feeling which Emma completely understood. Not that she could think much of anything, staring and practically drooling at the sight of such flawless skin.

Smooth... paler than the rest of her, Regina's breasts rose and fell slightly with each breath, the swells of them trembling as she moved. Her nipples were a dusky peach, and Emma had to blink at that. For some reason, she'd almost expected them to be the light plum-pink of her lips. As she watched, the mayor ran a hand down her own chest, stretching the other behind her head, forcing her breasts to thrust themselves into her waiting hand.

Holy fuck. For a moment, Emma was almost afraid she'd been seen and all this was some sick joke on the mayor's part. No one could be this naturally sexy. Could they?

Regina's head tipped backwards and to the side, towards the window, revealing closed eyes and parted lips. Her fingers ran over and under her breasts, and Emma found herself envying that hand. Then shook her head at herself for doing so.

The mayor's eyelids fluttered back open, looking for an instant directly out of her window. Startled, Emma shrank back, trying to ignore the lump in her throat. Or at least pretend it was there only because she didn't want Regina to see her. And not because an odd tingling feeling was rising from her stomach at _what_ she was watching. Regina's gaze moved away from the window, and Emma gave a sigh of relief.

Cheeks flushing, she busied herself by adjusting the focus again, waiting a moment before daring to look again.

Now both of the mayor's hands were in front of her, trailing over her abdomen in a vague semblance of the gesture Emma had seen so often; Regina seemed to hold herself whenever she felt afraid or threatened. But from the expression on her face, which, granted, Emma could only partially see, the brunette didn't look at all to be threatened. Or afraid. She looked... rather like Emma felt at the moment. Her cheeks had a flush to them sheriff had never seen on them before, and when those full lips parted again, Emma could almost hear the faint murmur of pleasure that whispered out of them. Or at least she imagined she could.

She was suddenly entirely too warm, despite the slight chill of the Maine evening. With one hand still pressing the binoculars to her face, the other slowly moved to the zipper of her red jacket, and slid it down. Regina's hand moved in an echo of her own, trailing down the center of her chest again before slowly rising back to her breasts. Long, tapered fingers brushed across stiffening nipples. And began to toy with them. Slowly.

Emma felt her lips part of their own accord. Her mouth went dry. God, was Regina really going to masturbate? In front of the window? Right now?

As if in reply, Regina's fingers enveloped her nipples, taking them between them and forefinger and rolling them to even stiffer points. Her head tipped even farther backwards, white teeth sinking into her lower lip. Emma bit back a groan, not knowing whether to feel horrified or blessed. It was all she could do to keep watching, shifting uncomfortably in too-tight jeans.

Despite her discomfort, Emma's gaze was still glued to the unknowing performer. Her nipples now stiffened almost to the point of looking painful, the mayor seemed to turn her attention to her last article of clothing. Her head titled down to regard the black lace of her panties, almost as if seeing them for the first time. One of her hands continued at her breasts, zigzagging patterns between her nipples while the other slipped ever lower.

Emma's gaze followed, and the binoculars becoming unsteady in her grasp was the only clue she had that her own hands were shaking. She drew in a sharp breath, the exhale of it sounding ragged in her chest, and leaned closer still. Careful, this time, not to fall into the bush. Instead she just leaned into it. There might well be damage to it later, but she couldn't be bothered to care. Not when Regina's thumb hooked itself beneath black lace and began to inch it down her hips.

Her second hand left her breasts, lightly scratching her own fingernails down the length of her abdomen before joining the other. Emma's throat was dry, her breath labored as she watched. If Henry's curse had come undone in that moment, or Godzilla had begun attacking the clock tower in the center of town, she wouldn't have noticed.

Inch by torturous inch, the lace traveled lower, revealing the pale flesh it had so jealously guarded from Emma's eyes before now. The sheriff felt herself willing the mayor to hurry up. The anticipation was killing her. Finally, even Regina seemed to grow annoyed with how long this was taking. The lace fell to the floor, leaving the mayor at least fully nude. And completely unfettered from the eyes of her audience.

With a groan, Emma felt her knees weaken, and leaned even more of her weight on the hedge in front of her. There would definitely be a hole there. God, Regina was breathtaking. How had she never noticed that beneath all the jackets and turtlenecks was a body _that_ flawless?

The mayor waxed extensively, she noted with interest, and had to laugh at herself for doing so. The laugh died in her throat when Regina's ever-questing hand began to toy over the well-groomed strip of her pubic hair. She was really going to... With her hand still teasing over her own mons, the mayor moved to sit on the edge of her bed. Emma cursed, and took a few steps to the right. She could still see. Mostly. Like hell she was going to stop watching now.

Fortunately for Emma, Regina had elected to sit still largely facing the window, her free hand bracing her weight behind her while the other teased above her heat, gradually parting the folds of her labia. Closing her eyes, the mayor's head tipped backwards again, and Emma wished she was close enough to hear the groan when she slid two fingers within herself.

Her own, however, was definitely audible, and Emma was suddenly even more appreciative of the lack of neighbors. She shifted again, uncomfortably aware of her own arousal. Annoyed that her pants were too tight to just slide her own hand down inside, she seriously considered unbuttoning them. But that was a two-handed job, and there was no way she was going to look away for even an instant.

Now that her head was leaned back, Regina's face was hidden from her. Emma compensated by zooming the focus in even more, staring unblinking as the mayor's hand moved away herself. Her fingers glistened. Straightening her back a little, Regina held her hand in front of her face, seeming to study it for a moment. Emma re-focused the binoculars just in time to watch as those luscious, full lips parted, enveloping the tips of her fingers. Tasting herself.

Emma moaned again, louder this time. Her mouth was no longer dry; it seemed to have the complete opposite problem now. The mayor's tongue was visible, cleaning her fingers of her wetness and drinking her own taste in. Emma felt irrationally jealous. Then blinked at herself for it. She'd never thought of Regina that way before, she had no claim on her. There was no reason she should be... The mayor's hand moved back to her heat, and the sheriff promptly lost her line of thought.

Two fingers became three, and Emma could only watch, wishing without knowing why that she was in the mayor's room with her. Hearing her. Feeling her. Tasting her. The crotch of her jeans was now incredibly wet. Still, she watched.

Regina's teeth were buried in her lower lip again as she pressed her fingers inside herself, going faster with each thrust. Her thumb moved to rub circles over her clit, and brown eyes squeezed tightly closed. Hips arching into her own hand, Regina's mouth opened in what had to be a silent cry. Faster. Harder. Deeper. Her fingers danced as she fucked herself, almost moving faster than Emma could see. The sheriff was panting now, her breathing in time with the erratic rise and fall of the mayor's chest.

A dull sheen of perspiration covered Regina's body, shining in the light of her lamps. The arm behind her began to tremble, buckling beneath her weight as the other continued to plunge its fingers deep inside of her. Regina opened her eyes, arched her back even further, and tensed.

She was coming.

Emma couldn't decide where to look. The binoculars flitted between the fingers inside the mayor, the heaving chest glistening with sweat. Finally, she settled on Regina's face, shuddering from her own desire at the look of ecstasy on features that were so often crossed with anger.

The fingers continued to thrust throughout her orgasm. Evidently, Regina was set on making it last as long as possible. Emma didn't mind. Even as uncomfortably aroused as she she was, she was torn between feeling like she could watch forever and the burning desire to knock the door down, shove Regina against one of the columns on the porch and take her right there.

...Where the fuck had that thought come from? Unsettled, Emma's hand faltered. The binoculars lowered, and she swallowed through still ragged breaths. She was shaking, and shook herself even further to compensate. It was long past time to go.

...After one more look. Unable to resist, she took a last glance through the binoculars, wanting to see that look of pleasure on Regina's face one more time. She doubted she'd ever see it again.

It wasn't there. Though she was still sitting on the bed, Regina was looking at the window. At her. And smiling. Slowly, leisurely, she stood and approached the glass.

"Shit!" Emma gulped under her breath, certain she'd been seen. Unwilling to wait around, she bolted for her car, taking care to duck behind the hedges as much as she could. Tossing the forgotten walkie talkie and the binoculars into the passenger seat, the squad car roared to life almost before she'd closed the door behind her. She shifted gears and prepared to drive off, cursing at herself. She'd have to drive past the house.

...Regina wouldn't be able to prove anything. Odds were she'd only caught a glimpse of her, if that. And she could always just say she'd been out on her usual patrol. Nothing to worry about, then. As she passed by the house, she took one final glance towards the mayor's bedroom.

From it's discarded position beside her, the walkie talkie suddenly crackled to life. It emitted nothing but static, but nonetheless elicited a decidedly girly shriek from the sheriff. Startled, she hit the gas and started driving, fumbling for the stupid thing as she pulled away from the mayor's house. She failed to reach it before it hissed in static again.

"Miss Swan," crackled the walkie talkie. The voice was a little labored, but nonetheless still commanding enough to send a shiver down her spine. "I'll be sending you an invoice for the damage to my hedge. ...Do enjoy the rest of your evening."

It clicked off. Emma stared at it, then glanced back at the window, a blush and the lump in her throat both rising to full prominence. "...Fuck," she said to no one.

When Emma Swan finally went to bed that night, she slept fitfully, and dreamed of pale skin and black lace.


	2. The Other Side of the Window

Black Lace- The Other Side of the Window

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><p>The first sign was a strange tingling sensation between her shoulder blades, moving right along the back of her neck. She was being watched. She felt the eyes long before she first heard the static hiss of the walkie talkie from upstairs. If she concentrated, of course she could hear- there was very little that went on in her house that Regina Mills did not know about, one way or the other. Much like Storybrooke itself.<p>

A glance at the clock on the wall confirmed it was long past Henry's bedtime. A red haze of anger began to beat in her pulse, and the pen she'd been holding suddenly snapped in her hand. This would not continue.

Not tonight. Not ever.

As Regina rose from her chair, the tiny mayoral part of her protested the waste of an evening of perfectly good work time, but she silenced it as easily as she'd have silenced an annoying underling. It hardly mattered; she was well ahead of schedule on all projects that warranted her immediate attention. And even those that didn't. Far better to foil the plans of those foolish enough to cross her.

She moved through her house as regally as the Queen she truly was, flicking off the lights almost absently as she went. She wanted to make damn sure that Miss Swan knew she was ascending the stairs and ruining 'her' stolen moments with Henry.

When she reached the landing, Regina glanced at the door to her son's room, and cracked it open. He lay facing away from her, lying on his side and pretending to be asleep. She hesitated, and for a moment forgot her anger, forgot her pain, and just watched him. He looked so peaceful.

And then she spotted the antennae of the walkie talkie peeking out from under his bed. A bubble of rage rose from her stomach. That... _woman_... had invaded her town, stolen her son from her by affection if not by physicality, and now, after being specifically forbidden from seeing him, she had the audacity to sneak around outside her house at this very second. Biting her lip to hide the snarl that was trying so desperately to consume her face, she came inches away from yanking the door open, striding over to her son's bed and snatching the damn device.

She did not. Quelling the rage that churned inside her took some doing, but she was well aware that stealing away Henry's only link to... that woman... would hardly make any headway in getting him to love her again. With a soundless sigh, she moved away from the room of her son, turned on her heel and walked to her own bedroom. The light snapped on imperiously. No doubt Miss Swan would notice and realize that her conversation was well and truly over. Unless the damn woman was lying in waiting and planning on resuming talking to her son once she thought Regina was asleep...

Practically flying to the window, she flung her curtains open with such force she was surprised they didn't rip. Sure enough, she caught a glimpse of the Sheriff ducking back down behind her hedges. Whirling, she came within seconds of storming down the stairs out of her house and having it out with the damn woman then and there.

But a tiny glimmer of what she'd actually seen flashed through her mind, and she paused. And glanced again. Miss Swan had been in motion when she'd opened the curtains. She'd been _leaving_.

Regina felt a very, very small portion of her irritation ebb away. Not all of it; never all of it. Gold had gotten that right, at least. Her rage took up a great deal of space. But she let enough of it go to keep her from forcing a confrontation this evening. Let it wait until morning, when she could properly plot out some fitting punishment for the Sheriff's offenses. She was a little too tightly wound for it tonight. She needed to relax. And she desperately needed a drink. Easily remedied by a trip to her sidebar.

The cider was fabulous, of course. It was hers. A few long sips, a few longer, deeper breaths, and she felt a little better. Her gaze rested on the closed door to her bedroom, and the hall leading to Henry's beyond it. The radio remained silent, the sheriff defeated, the battle was won for the night. She _could_ relax, at least a little. Setting her glass down, her hand twisted around to her back, grasping the pull of the zipper to her dress.

As it slid down, she began to realize that the tingle between her shoulder blades had not diminished. She was still being watched. Out of habit, her eyes moved instantly to the mirror across from her. The Genie wasn't there, of course. Not in Storybrooke. But even so, she noticed a glint of reflected light from near the hedges outside.

A glint of light from the glass of binoculars, transferred through the reflection of her mirror. Miss Swan was still watching. Not watching Henry now, she knew. So the Sheriff had to be watching _her. ._..Interesting.

Now that she was disrobing, Regina found herself wondering if Emma would she be appalled or intrigued? If the former, no doubt the good Sheriff would quickly leave, and a dent in her hedges and another glint of the binoculars would betray it. But if the latter... well, this evening had suddenly gotten a hell of a lot more interesting.

Slowly, she slid the zipper further down, revealing the skin of her back to her audience an inch at a time. When she reached the end, she allowed the dress to cling to her for a long moment, and she kept her eyes glued to that glint in her mirror. Emma had not left yet.

She was fully aware of how good she looked. Her beauty had been renowned across the land, once. And twenty-eight years of being frozen in time had made certain that Regina's looks would never fade. Hell, if she had the chance, she'd watch herself undress, too. She had, actually, and more besides. There was far more than one reason that she had such an affinity for mirrors.

Beneath her breast, her heart began to hammer in a way it hadn't done in years. Not since before the curse. If Emma was watching her... did she like what she was seeing? Did she want to see more? The idea began forming in her mind, and Regina couldn't help but laugh to herself at its ridiculousness. It was impulsive, she knew. Had she not already had a few glasses of cider that evening, she probably never would have even entertained the notion. But after all, there was no reason _not_ to do what she was considering.

And the reaction would well be worth it, if she played it right. If Emma got over her own embarrassment enough to stay and watch. And if she did...

With a slight smile on her lips, Regina made up her mind, and finished with the zipper. The air around her almost crackled from her mirth as the dress finally fell in a puddle at her feet. Making sure her audience was still there, slowly, methodically, she reached for the clasp to her bra. Best not take things too quickly. If Emma was going to watch, she was going to make sure she got a hell of a show.

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><p>Skin flushed and slightly breathless, Regina reclined on her bed after she'd finished. That had been... much more intense than normal, and she knew the added thrill had come from the fact that she'd been observed. It was a hell of a power kick, knowing someone was watching you when that same person was certain you didn't know.<p>

But she would now.

She rose from the bed and headed towards the window. The game was over, now. Time to announce the fact that she'd won. Like hell she was going to give anyone, especially someone like Miss Swan, a show like that and not gloat afterward. She approached the window with all the liquid grace of a panther, keeping her eyes riveted to the spot she knew Emma was hiding. And she smirked.

With a pang of near-regret, Regina so wished she could have heard the shocked gasp and curse when the Sheriff realized she'd been discovered. It would have been so very, very sweet. The final little cap on a splendid little game. Ah well.

As Emma went darting by, trying to stay hidden behind her bushes, Regina frowned. Like hell the Sheriff was going to get off that easy. Not without a formal announcement of her victory. But she only had a few minutes before Emma would drive by her house.

Thinking quickly, she threw on her robe and raced out her bedroom door into the hall and to her son's room. Henry was long since asleep. With silence learned after decades of experience, she strode over to his bed as she'd wanted to do before this whole... episode had began, grabbed the walkie talkie from beneath it, and dashed back to her own room.

A little breathless now, both from her orgasm and the quick sprint, she opened the window. A hand pressed against its pane, centering her, calming her just a little as she she watched the patrol car drive by her home as if nothing at all had just happened. She almost laughed, and switched on the walkie, allowing only static to transfer through first, just to freak the hell out of her audience. A slight swerve of the car revealed that she'd done just that.

"Miss Swan," her voice was little more ragged than she'd have liked, but there was nothing she could do about it. She leaned against the glass of the window directly, the cold of it pressing into her chest even beneath the thin robe and sending a delicious shiver of sensation through her still-sensitive body. "I'll be sending you an invoice for the damage to my hedge." The fact that she could see that her hedges would need repair was both supremely irritating and highly amusing. And flattering, she supposed. It was nice to know she could still have such a profound... effect on someone. Even if that someone normally despised her. She smirked, and wished Emma could see it. She'd hear it in her tone, certainly. "Do enjoy the rest of your evening."

Her hand extended out the window, the walkie talkie hanging loosely in her grasp. Just a quick release of her fingers, and the damn machine would tumble from the second story and fall shattering to the brick walkway below. Her grip loosened.

She hesitated.

A flash in her mind- the look on Henry's face when he realized she'd taken the thing. He would be so angry. Such unadulterated hatred... Her son already despised her, favoring that blonde voyeur over the woman who'd nourished and cared for him every day for the last ten years. Her hand shook. Gone was that sense of power, of control. She no longer had an audience, and with Emma, so too had gone her confidence.

She so wanted to drop the stupid thing, as if destroying the plastic and metal would somehow also destroy the connection between Henry and... her. But nothing could destroy that, she knew. Though she'd only been in his life a short while, Emma was already more connected to her son than she had ever been. And that knowledge hurt her more than anything else had in twenty-eight years.

Her grip tightened. Inwardly cursing, she pulled her arm back inside and re-latched the window with her free hand, staring at the stupid walkie talkie as if it were an Agraban viper. Just as deadly, really. She flung it from her, the device making a clicking hiss of protest when it fell onto her bed.

Still shaking from nothing to do with her orgasm, the mayor gave a ragged sigh, hugging her abdomen as she normally did when upset. And only then became aware that she was still naked beneath the thin robe. She glanced down at the discarded puddle of her clothing, having almost forgotten what had happened... what she'd done while Emma watched.

A slow smirk spread across her lips at the memory. And as she bent down to collect the scattered pile of lace and silk, she gave a tiny laugh. And suddenly knew exactly what to do.

* * *

><p>When Henry came down the stairs the next morning for breakfast, his mother handed him his cereal bowl with one hand. In the other was the walkie talkie.<p>

His brow furrowed, and she could sense the argument rising in him over the fact that she'd stolen it. So she spoke first.

"After a great deal of deliberation, I've decided you can have this back," she began, and his eyes lit up in excitement, then confusion, and he looked at her with both mixed in his expression. "But there is to be _no _staying up past your bedtime. Understood?"

He nodded rapidly, and cradled the device in his hands as soon as she handed it back to him. He swallowed a little, and glanced back at her. "Why?"

Regina smiled, though there was more than just genuineness in it. A flash of memory traveled down her spine, and she flexed her shoulders at it, her smile widening. "Because whether you believe me or not, Henry, your happiness is very important to me."

He did not appear convinced. "So why can't I just see Emma?"

A slight smirk, and Regina rose again, her height commanding even without high heels. "Because hers isn't. Now eat your breakfast."

* * *

><p>At the playground, Henry spotted the familiar yellow beetle parked its usual distance away. With a beaming smile and a wave, Henry dug in his backpack until he produced the walkie talkie, holding it up for his birth mother to see.<p>

She did, and the first thing that ran through her mind was surprise. Then embarrassment. Then something far less appropriate. A shiver of remembrance shook down her spine. Taking a deep breath, she switched her own on. She'd been more than tempted to throw it out, after last night. But hadn't. "Your mom gave it back to you?" she blurted out in lieu of a normal hello.

Even from this distance, she could see the look of confusion cross her son's face. "Yeah, it was weird. But... how'd you know she took it?"

"Um... she kinda caught me outside your house last night. " Emma ran a hand through her hair, fidgeting awkwardly in her car as she held the walkie talkie, glad he was too far away to see her blushing. Or the fact that her hand was trembling, remembering exactly the way Regina had looked when her fingers had brought her just there, the look of abandon on her face when she came. And yes, even the smug breathlessness of her voice when she'd smirked at Emma through the walkie talkie.

Emma found herself breathless as well. She repressed a shiver, and had to ask Henry to repeat himself when he questioned his adoptive mother's motives. As if Emma knew.

She couldn't even explain her own. And she certainly couldn't explain the pulse of desire that raced through her every time she looked at the walkie talkie.

She really hoped she wouldn't get turned on every time she had to use the thing.


	3. Red Cotton

**Red Cotton**

Pairing: Swan Queen (for real this time!)

Rating: M

Summary: After such a lovely display the evening before, Emma finds it increasingly impossible to focus on her work. Or anything at all. And it's all Regina's fault.

Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em. Still wish I did. Siiigh. -

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><p>For the umpteenth time that day, Emma Swan found herself unbearably turned on.<p>

So far this morning, she'd already taken a cold shower (before work, when she'd woken up horny), jogged to get her morning coffee (in Maine, in fucking March, which if that wasn't cold enough to clear her head, nothing would be), and promptly downed said coffee when she'd arrived at work and found herself still horny.

At first, she'd thought it had only been the damn walkie talkie. After she'd visited the kid at the playground that morning before school, she'd thrown the thing in a drawer and refused to think about it any longer. Even just seeing it caused unfairly vivid memories of the mayor. _(And her hands and her lips and breasts and-) _But as the morning wore on, she found that her body took just about any excuse to remind her of _(dark hair flying backwards as Regina's head was thrown back, honey brown eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy) _what she'd seen. What the Mayor had known damn well she'd seen. Hell, Emma was positive now that Regina had known she'd had an audience the entire time.

Which, of course, meant that the entire damn thing had been strictly for her benefit. Every inch of exposed skin, every shudder, every moan... all for her. And she had no idea why Regina had done it. Except to drive her crazy. Even now, all Emma could think about was to wish she'd been in the room to actually hear those moans. Or better yet, have ripped away Regina's hand and replaced it with her own and taken wicked delight in causing each and every one of them herself. Drive the mayor to untold heights of pleasure until the building towards release finally caused fevered gasps to take the shape of her name. God, she'd have loved that.

And goddammit, she was thinking about it again. And getting turned on. Again.

With a frustrated growl, Emma threw the file of paperwork she was making absolutely no headway on back onto her desk, and flopped onto the blue couch next to the empty jail cell.

"God_damn _Regina!" she spat with as much venom as she could muster, and promptly thanked the same god that she was alone in the office. She was too damned tightly wound to work. She needed to do something with all this tension or she truly felt she'd implode. And she'd tried everything she could think of. Except actually shoving her hand down her pants and dealing with it directly. And that really wasn't appropriate for work, at all. Or an effective use of payroll.

"...To hell with appropriate," Emma muttered, popping the button of her pants and settling down more comfortably on the couch. She couldn't really be an effective Sheriff while she was this uncomfortably turned on, anyway. And as she shoved her fingers beneath the waistband of her underwear and discovered just how thoroughly wet she'd made the red cotton of her panties, she rationalized it wouldn't take long, anyway. She shifted her thighs, allowing her knees to part enough to allow her fingers the easiest access to the heat and wetness that lay aching between them. Fingers trailed touches across the outer lips of her labia, and even the barest of contact forced her to bite her lip to keep from moaning. She was so very, very wet. Her morning of doing little but remembering Regina's naked body writhing on her bed in orgasmic delight had done nothing but get her far, far too excited.

Emma finally slipped two tapered fingers inside her, and the moan that slipped out of parted lips couldn't have been contained. The memories continued to play in her mind, her breath growing more ragged every time Regina moaned in her mind, every pulse and twist of questing fingers- her own, and the Mayor's. She rubbed faster, wanting, needing-

"Regina... "

She was too far gone to be ashamed of the name spilling out in a half-choked groan of need. Her eyes closed, the better to just give in and allow her memories to wreak havoc over her. She'd already given in this far. Now, the only way she could have any hope of continuing with her day was to literally fuck Regina out of her system. Her release was coming faster and faster, and as she bit her lip again, she slipped a thrid finger inside herself, the heel of her hand digging into her swollen clitoris with each fevered pulse of her fingers. All too quickly, she felt herself peak, felt the ungodly pressure build to breaking point, and her fingers pulsed just a little faster until she gasped and groaned, finally succuming and tipping over the edge into release. And it was with no small amount of annoyance that Regina's name again left her lips as she did so.

Gasping, her fingers slowed and then stilled as her orgasm abated, and the couch ceased trembling beneath her as her body shook. "Thank god," she whispered to no one, closing her eyes and sinking into the couch, her body still humming in pleasure and breathing still labored. Taking several deep breaths, she knew she'd probably remain there for a good few more minutes, enjoying the afterglow and a relieved chuckle and letting her body cool down in its own good ti-

...Wait. That chuckle hadn't been hers.

"Enjoy yourself, Miss Swan?"

Startled, she gave a faint shriek and jerked her hand out of her jeans, frantically trying to re-button them before a dawning realization hit. She knew all too well whose voice that was. Emma felt herself shudder again, felt the flush drain away from her face, and she gave a dry swallow before slowly turning her head around.

One hand holding a jacket partially draped over her shoulder, Regina smirked back at her, looking for all the world like the cat who had the canary. "I know I did," she purred in a voice dripping with innuendo and honey.

Emma repressed another shiver, and would have stood had her pants not still been unbuttoned. A fact which she really saw no point in trying to hide now. "How long have you-" she trailed off, not really needing an answer. Especially when Regina smirked like that.

"Long enough. And really, Miss Swan," she tsked, "your showmanship needs a little work. I let you see far more of me." The smirk only widened as she stepped closer, making no attempt to hide the fact that her eyes were hungrily roaming over Emma's body, lingering over her unzipped pants.

She flushed again, and glared before refastening her jeans and standing up. "You weren't supposed to see anything! Goddamn you, Regina!" Vaguely, Emma was aware she really had no room to stand on this particular subject, but she couldn't help lash out anyway. Regina just brought that out in her.

The mayor only laughed, and called her out on it. "A bit of a double standard, isn't it, dear? After the show I put on for you last night."

Emma felt the flush rising back to her cheeks, though this one certainly wasn't from near-orgasm. "That wasn't... I didn't... you weren't supposed to know I was there!" Even before the weak protest had left her lips Emma regretted it, and wished she could grab the words and shove them back in her lips.

Regina seemed to have other plans, and stepped forward, invading her personal space in a move that was so unbearably _Regina_ that Emma had to bite back a growl. She was close enough to taste, and Emma tried to focus on her outrage instead of the fact that those lips were now directly in front of her.

"Is that supposed to make it better?" Her amusement was practically palpable. "You were the one sneaking around _my_ house and peeking through my windows in the first place, Miss Swan. I don't recall forcing you to watch me."

Emma was finding it a little hard to concentrate with Regina so close to her. She kept trying not to stare at the way the top button of her shirt was undone, revealing just a flash of creamy skin and... yes, still black lace. Huh. You'd think a woman like Regina would enjoy a little variety.

Blinking, she forced her thoughts away and her eyes back up, and realized belatedly that it was her turn to say something. "...How was I supposed to know the Mayor gets her kicks by masturbating in front of her window?" There. That wasn't too bad of a comeback, really.

Regina scoffed and looked like she was trying to avoid rolling her eyes. "Oh, yes, of course. Because the middle of the police station is so much better." Regina just laughed, and the air of her breath passed over Emma's face. Mmm... apples.

Emma didn't have a response. Her eyes just left the mayor's, trying to think. This had all been Regina's fault, really. But she couldn't exactly tell her that the mayor had been that all she'd thought about while getting herself off. She also didn't know when Regina had stepped to the side but the warm breath next to her ear made the fact obvious.

"Just admit it, dear: You enjoyed watching me."

She had, but again, it would never be something she would admit. But the mayor was rather known for being relentless. Her eyes closed, and she just barely repressed another shiver. She should really tell the mayor to get out of her personal space, or hell, out of her office. But then there were fingers lightly resting on her shoulder, and that thought suddenly seemed less important.

"You loved it, Miss Swan. Watching my fingers slide in and out of myself. You couldn't look away from how my toes curled, how I clenched the sheet with my hand and my chest heaved with every labored breath. You wanted nothing more than to tear my hand away and replace it with your own and drive me to fevered, wordless heights of pleasure. You wanted to taste your name as it fell from my lips with every gasp. You wanted-" and her lips were brushing against her ear, each word a sexy, breathy whisper. " -and you still want... to fuck me. Don't you, Miss Swan?"

Emma took a deep breath during the little diatribe, and when she exhaled, something inside her snapped. Her eyes flashed open, and she whirled Regina off balance, twisting and locking her hands around the older woman's wrists in a sudden burst of furious power. "My name," she hissed, taking advantage of Regina's momentary surprise to shove the Mayor's arms behind her back, "is Emma."

Brown eyes burned into her own, dark with fury. "What the hell are you-"

"Say it!" She spat, stepping forward, wrenching Regina's arms further back and not caring when the other woman gave a low hiss of unexpected pain when they crashed into the bars of the empty cell behind her.

"Emma." Coming from the mayor's lips, her name seemed like a curse, but to the sheriff it had never sounded better. "Satisfied now?" Regina had the audacity to smirk. As if she wasn't the one currently trapped against the jail cell.

"Oh no, you don't get out of this so easy." Emma smirked right back, not about to lose any of the ground she'd won.

"No?" Regina seemed to mock her, arching her back as far as she could so that her face was only inches away, close enough to green eyes that she could see her reflection in them. "And what, exactly, is 'this', dear?"

Her lips that close, she was practically daring Emma to wipe that smirk of her face and kiss her. Violently. Ferociously.

So she did.


	4. Red Meets Black

Red Meets Black

Rating: We'll say M.

Summary: The confrontation only escalates...

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed, favorited, or subscribed! I absolutely love seeing the notification e-mails; it really brightens my day. And also, sorry, I couldn't help rewriting _that_ scene to suit my own interests. Hope you all enjoy!

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><p>She was <em>kissing<em> Regina Mills. And god, she was loving it.

If Emma had expected Regina to resist at all, she was pleasantly surprised. The older woman's lips parted for hers almost immediately, and even before Emma could bring her tongue into play, she felt Regina's sweeping across her lips and teeth. Closing her eyes, she drank in the feel and taste of Regina's lips on hers. It was overwhelmingly perfect, and she had to fight to keep a groan from escaping into those glorious lips.

It was also, Emma was surprised to note, _gentle_. The passion was there, certainly, but it was so much less volatile than she'd been expecting. What Emma gave in violence, Regina seemed to take, twist, and give back in raw sensuality. Taking her time and forcing Emma to slow and do the same. Without really knowing how or why, the Sheriff found herself complying, and the kisses became less about anger and more about... need.

A rumble against her chest revealed itself to be an amused chuckle from the mayor. Emma pulled back, just a little, and Regina simply arched into her in retaliation, and this time, with breasts pressing against her own and that tongue still dragging over her lips, Emma couldn't keep the groan from slipping out.

"So 'this'," Regina murmured softly in between kisses when she could, not trying to fight against the hold Emma still had on her wrists, "is what you want, hmm?"

The Sheriff almost rolled her eyes. "Yes," she growled. Simple. To the point, and then she lurched forward again to crush Regina completely against the bars before ripping another kiss from the older woman. One of her hands released a wrist, trailing down over the sides of the power suit to slip around the bars and cup Regina's ass.

She expected the moan and even the slight hiss of pain gasped into her mouth. She did not expect the following laughter. Or the smirk that she could feel, even if she couldn't see. Regina's now free hand somehow managed to insinuate itself between them, sliding tantalizingly up Emma's thighs to rest just over where they met. Emma gasped at the sudden realization that her arousal had never really dissipated, and the crotch of her jeans was still quite soaked.

Regina purred at the discovery, and rubbed the back of her knuckles over the wet spot of the denim. "You want... Mmm... to fuck me right here, in your workplace, forced up against metal bars and utterly at your mercy?"

Emma groaned in a mix of arousal and irritation, two feelings Regina seemed to bring out in her in spades, and pulled back to level a look at her. "I can think of worse places." Her hand slipped lower, finding the hem of the Mayor's skirt and sliding her fingers beneath it.

Annoyingly, Regina was still smirking. And still looking remarkably well put-together for a woman pressed so hard against prison bars it had to hurt. "I'm sure," she smiled, and leaned forward to run her tongue along the course of Emma's ear. "I can think of better," she whispered, and the blonde groaned, closing her eyes to keep out that smirk. Or at least that's what she told herself.

"_Em-ma,_ " Regina drawled, her name long and drawn-out, almost sing-songy in its playfulness.

"Christ, Regina!" she pulled away, fully pulling her hands away with a look of sheer exasperation. "Has anyone ever told you you talk too much?"

The Mayor only laughed again, arching an eyebrow in that smug, superior way she was so good at. Absently, Emma found herself wondering if she'd taken lessons at it or something. _How to Smirk Like an Arrogant Prick 101. _"Oh, so now you _don't_ want me to say your name? I do wish you'd make up your mind, dear."

Goddamn infuriating woman. Apparently she couldn't even fuck her without getting into an argument. "You know what?" Emma snarled, stepping back completely and turning away from the infuriating older woman. "Just forget it. And get the hell out of my office, _Madam Mayor_."

Two very familiar clicking sounds, and Emma looked down, surprised to see a ring of metal around her wrist. _When the hell had Regina swiped her handcuffs?_ Furious, she yanked, hoping to drag the other woman with her, and a dull clang was all it took to realize that Regina hadn't cuffed her to herself. She'd cuffed her to the bars. "What the hell are you-?" SHe pulled against the cuffs as if force alone would be enough to separate her from the bars.

"Oh no," Regina purred, side-stepping quite freely and then circling around to the front of the irate blonde. "'You're not getting out of this so easily,'" she mocked, throwing Emma's earlier words back in her face.

"Regina, Goddammit!" she fumed, anger burning in her so rapidly and so quickly that her vision was blurring. She lashed out, trying to land her fist into something substantial, like Regina's face. But regrettably the older woman had already moved out of her reach.

"Don't worry, Sheriff. I'm sure you have a key for these?"Emma's eyes flew immediately to her desk, where the keys were quite prominently displayed on the dark wood.

"Good,"Regina continued, approaching close enough to trail her hand freely down Emma's neck and the opening of her shirt before the blonde swung again. "So here's what's going to happen, dear: I'm going to toss you the key, and then I'm going back to City Hall to do my job. And you will do yours. And then tonight, after Henry's asleep, you're going to come to my house at, say, ten o'clock, and we'll continue this... conversation."

Emma's eyes were blazing with her fury. "Regina, if you honestly think I'm going to let you get your way in this, you have another-"

With a grin, the mayor pressed a single finger to protesting lips, and the scent of herself on it was enough to effectively startle her into silence. "Oh, you'll do this my way, dear," the mayor purred. "Or we won't do it at all. And I know you want to."

Emma's grim silence was the only answer she could give, her eyes still glaring, her pulse still beating furiously in her veins.

Regina smiled, and pulled away completely, walking over to the desk with no small amount of swagger in her hips. She picked up the keys, let them dangle in her hand for a second, and then looked back. "And who knows, dear? You might even be able to get the upper hand." The look in her eyes seemed to say that she thought that was pretty damned unlikely.

Wearing that same smile she'd had when offering Emma a basket full of apples, she tossed the keys. By the time they landed- just, of course, out of Emma's immediate reach- she was gone.

"Goddammit!" the Sheriff screamed to no one, and sunk down onto her bottom, stretching her legs out to hook the keys with her boot. Success.

Finally. At least she'd won something today.

Still very much angry, it took her three tries to get the damn keys into the lock of the cuffs. She forced herself to take a breath when they unlatched, still glaring after the long-gone woman with little but hate in her eyes. Hate, and Lust.

Another deep breath, and still another. She looked to her clock and began timing them- two seconds for an inhale, four seconds exhale. By the time she had counted to twenty, she was only slightly less aroused.

But the clock had given her an idea.

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><p>She rang the doorbell precisely as the clock tower began to toll the hour.<p>

It was a minute or two before the door opened, revealing a confused looking Regina Mills. And confusion only gave way to profound irritation and just a tiny twinge of uncertainty when she saw who was at the door.

The uncertainty did not go unnoticed, and Emma gave a tiny internal cheer of success before Regina's anger won. "Miss Swan. What are you doing here?" Emma was sure that her voice was only level for fear that Henry might overhear.

"You invited me. Remember?" she smirked.

"Of course I remember!" she barely managed to hiss, "You're four hours early! Henry and I are having dinner."

"Oh," the blonde raised an eyebrow, and this time the smirk was hers. Almost idly, her hand stretched out, fingers toying with one of the buttons on Regina's shirt as seductively as she knew how. As seductively as Regina had done, a few hours earlier. "But I didn't come here for dinner. I came for you."

Regina could only gape, too shocked or furious to respond. Emma didn't know which, and was pleased to discover she didn't care. It was enough to know she'd managed to win, if only just a little. The moment stretched while Regina's anger grew, the muscles in her neck tensing like a bow string. Emma had to suppress the urge to gulp. Maybe this plan hadn't been as genius as she'd thought. And just when Emma knew she was really in trouble, her own little savior appeared.

"Emma!" Henry bounded into view, brushing past a shocked Regina to greet his birth-mother.

His birth-mother who swallowed a sigh of relief and smiled at him. "Hey, kid."

"What are you doing here?" Henry was practically bouncing with enthusiasm at seeing her, completely ignoring Regina. And Regina appeared to be so busy controlling her urge to eviscerate the town sheriff that she couldn't tell him to get back to the table.

Emma decided to play with that while she could. "Your mom invited me." She raised an eyebrow at the mayor in obvious challenge.

"You did?" Henry turned to ask her, at the same time that Regina began sputtering like an over-boiled tea kettle.

"I most certainly-" and she caught Henry's expression, full of surprise and pleasure and hope. It had been so long since she'd seen that look on his face. She finished in a much quieter tone, "...did." Swallowing, she buried her anger, and took one last look at Emma that indicated she would very much pay for this, before she was all smiles again. "Come on in then, Miss Swan. I'll set you out another plate." And she turned away without looking in Emma's direction again, walking back into the dining room.

Still at the door, Emma found her hand grabbed and tugged by her son, who smiled brightly at her. "Mom made lasagna," he rolled his eyes.

"You were so late we started without you," Regina continued, improvising. She was usually pretty good at that.

Emma shrugged, winking conspiratorially at her son. And he looked back at her curiously, knowing there was probably more to this than he was really getting. "Yeah, well, I've never been very good at being on time."

The mayor whirled, nostrils flared, still holding the knife she'd been using to cut Emma a portion of lasagna. She glanced at the sheriff, and then at the knife. But for the sake of Henry... she buried her anger again, and her mask slid back into place.

"So I'm beginning to see," she muttered, and exhaled slowly.

As Emma sat down at the table, she said nothing, only looked at the mayor. Looked, and smirked.

Regina sighed again.

Dinner was going to be incredibly awkward.


	5. Panties in a Twist

Title: Panties in a Twist

Pairing: Swan Queen

Rating: T

Summary: Dinner and all that comes with it.

A/N: The argument that Henry brings up at dinner is one I've actually had. Just wanted to throw that out there. Also, not beta-ed; any mistakes are mine.

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><p>This was, Emma decided about five minutes into dinner, either the most brilliant or the stupidest thing she'd ever done, and her assessment of which changed by the minute. She was sitting to Regina's left, because the mayor was, of course, seated at the head of the table, with Henry at her right. Her positioning was ideal: seated across from her son, she could take advantage to make faces at him at inopportune moments whenever Regina wasn't looking. It also allowed her to watch the Mayor out of the corner of her eyes at all times.<p>

During the brief glance they'd shared as Regina set the plate before Emma, they had decided, without talking about it, to keep the conversation revolving around Henry. Or Regina had decided, and any attempts of Emma's to venture into different subjects were met with irritation if not outright hostility. And then Regina would seem to catch herself, usually by glancing at her son, and force a smile. And the conversation would go back to him anyway.

This was both a blessing and a curse, because there was only so much Henry wanted to talk about with both of his mothers present. He longed to drag Emma away and plan the next phase of Operation Cobra, but that wasn't possible. But he also couldn't fall into the awkward icy silence so often endured during meals with just Regina, either. He was too thrilled to have Emma actually there. So most of the conversation cycled around what Henry was learning or doing in school. Which was safe, but boring.

And didn't suit Emma's interests at all. While she would ordinarily love to indulge Henry, he was not her ultimate goal for the evening. All she had intended to gain from sitting through this (admittedly delicious) meal was to gall Regina as much as possible. Getting to see Henry was an added bonus. And from the pointed glares and flaring of the older woman's nostrils whenever Emma opened her mouth, it was succeeding, but not nearly as much as the Sheriff wanted. She wanted Regina's blood to boil. She wanted her watch those eyes of hers blacken completely with rage. It was only a small payback for the torment the older woman had been inflicting on her the last two days, and Regina would never kill her as long as Henry was in the house. She hoped.

But after a few minutes, Regina seemed to re-assess what Emma's game was. The line or two of perplexity left her brow, and she actually almost smiled before turning her attention back to her son. And proceeded to keep it there, as if ignoring Emma's existence completely. And that was no fun at all. Fuming inwardly, Emma has looked down at her plate while she formed another strategy.

That was right about the time that Henry veered the conversation to an argument he'd had at school.

"Then Nick said that Wolverine would get his butt kicked-"

"Language, Henry," Regina corrected absently, but not unkindly, taking another dainty bite of her dinner, and he continued without missing much of a beat.

"And I pointed out that maybe he would, but he would heal and come back. So Nick said Vader would just crush him with the Force." Here the ten year old paused to take another forkful of dinner, wolfing it down so fast Emma expected another rebuke.

Instead, what came out of Regina's mouth was: "And what evidence does he have for that? Wolverine's spine is still adamantium, so I doubt it would crush easily, even with the Force. And I think his rate of healing is such that any damage Vader could dole out wouldn't last for very long. I think ultimately, Wolverine would just keep coming. "

It took a few seconds for Emma's brain to process that Henry's voice wasn't that high-pitched. Eyes raising to Regina, who was coming to the end of her statement, Emma found her jaw had suddenly relocated to the floor.

The mayor just raised an immaculately sculpted eyebrow, and actually deigned to look at the blonde for the first time in a while. "There is something to be said for persistence, don't you think, Sheriff?"

Emma could only nod dumbly, and Regina smirked and said something about going to get dessert. She rose, Henry automatically giving her his now empty plate. Emma continued to stare, and it took Henry 'psst'ing at her for her to blink herself out of her stupor and wordlessly hand over her plate to an entirely too amused Mayor.

"What's up with you tonight?" Henry asked as soon as Regina had left the room. He sounded worried, his brow wrinkled in a look that was, oddly enough, reminiscent of his adopted mother.

"Nothing!" Emma responded a little too quickly, glad she'd at least gotten her voice back. "Just a little warm in here, is all." She covered, and shrugged out of her leather jacket to prove the point. Henry didn't look like he bought it, but didn't say anything. Emma toyed with the end of her fork. "Since when does your Mom know comics and Star Wars?"

Henry shrugged, as if this wasn't any sort of ground-breaking revelation. "Since always. She used to read them to me when I was little..." and he frowned, as if the memories of a time before he knew about the curse were things to be quelled. "...Fantastic Four is her favorite. I don't like them much anymore, but Mom still buys the comics. She likes the Thing."

"Huh," Emma blinked, practically floored by this new bit of information on the woman who was... well... gaining new definitions by the day. But she never would've pegged Regina as liking Ben Grimm. Doctor Doom, maybe... Her thoughts got completely derailed by the resulting mental image of having combined 'pegged' and 'Regina' in the same sentence. A distinct blush rose to her cheeks, having nothing to do with the 'warmness' of the room, and she was forced to kick herself. Her son was still at the table.

The mayor chose that moment to return with the dessert, quirking up an eyebrow at the flushing of Emma's face. Because of course she noticed.

Henry did not, his eyes too busy growing wider at what Regina was setting before him. "Sundaes?" he beamed, grinning widely at Emma, completely ignoring his mother. "We never have ice cream on weeknights."

"It's a special occasion; we have a guest." Regina replied, the brightness of her son's enthusiasm causing a small smile to tug at the corners of her lips. Though the fact that it wasn't directed at her hit like an icicle spearing its way through her heart, and she fought to keep the wince of pain from breaking through as she set another bowl in front of Emma. "...I hope you like Rocky Road."

Eying the rather impressive arrangement of ice cream, whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and a cherry piled into the bowl in front of her, "Uh... yeah. It's my favorite."

"Mine, too!" said her son.

Regina only nodded, the smile long since gone from her face. Emma found herself missing it. The mayor simply ran her fingers over the curve of her spoon before finally dipping it into the ice cream. Compared to the giant mounds of sugar and cream in Henry and Emma's bowls, Regina's looked minuscule in comparison.

"Guess it's not yours, Regina?" Emma asked before she was really aware of it.

At the use of her name, the mayor's head snapped up to attention, eyes refocusing on her 'guest' from wherever her attention had gone. "I can't stomach many sweets."

Had she not known to listen for it, Emma might have missed the slight catch to the older woman's voice, the almost imperceptible glimmer in brown eyes. Suddenly uncomfortable, she felt like more of an intrusion than ever before. And for the first time, she actually almost felt sorry for being there.

Regina's attention seemed to go elsewhere again, staring down at the sundae she'd yet to actually taste.

The same could not be said of her son, who'd already downed a good third of his treat before Emma could finally catch his attention. When she did, she jerked her head in the direction of the mayor, mouthing 'thank you' rather pointedly but silently.

Confused, it took him a minute to catch on. "Huh? Oh. Thanks, mom," he muttered, almost dejectedly, before returning to shovel another spoonful into his mouth.

It was Regina's turn to blink her way out of confusion, leaving the sheriff to wonder how long it had been since those words had last left Henry's lips. "...You're welcome, Henry." But it was not Henry that suddenly found himself the subject of her gaze.

Emma found herself looking back, only to watch as the mayor delicately took a spoonful of mostly melted ice cream, raise it to her lips, and close them around the metal surface, the spoon turning once it was in her mouth. Eyes far darker than the chocolate treat fell closed for a brief moment before the spoon, now clean, exited those lips, pursed enough to reveal the faintest tip of a pink tongue behind them. Pulse suddenly racing, Emma found herself watching as the mayor repeated the entire process, and had to bite her cheek to keep from allowing a tiny, whimpering moan to escape. There was no way in hell that just watching the mayor eat ice cream should have turned her on that much. And the most horrible thing, she told herself, was that it probably wasn't even an act; Regina was _naturally_ that sexy.

Swallowing nervously, Emma tore her eyes away, and went back ton enjoying her own dessert. She could feel Regina's gaze on her, could practically feel the tiny smirk on those same lips as she watched. Emma didn't even try to echo the raw sexuality of Regina's spoon-licking. Instead, her actions more closely mirrored Henry's- shoveling ice cream into her mouth by the spoonful.

Henry, fortunately, seemed blissfully unaware, too keen on devouring the entire mound of confectionery delight in front of him. Which he had very nearly succeeded in doing, and so Emma began to eat her dessert faster to catch up. Ice cream headache, be damned, it was worth it not to be aroused to the point of moaning by a damned _spoon._

There was a downside to her chosen seat, and Emma discovered it while she was in the middle of one of the last heaving mouthfuls of whipped cream and chocolate sauce. Mid-swallow, the faintest touch of fingers began to slide up over her knee. Choking, she coughed, grabbing for her water and gulping it down. Henry looked at her with concern, but she cleared her throat and smiled at him, saying she was alright. And then she glared at the owner of the hand still on her knee, tracing small patterns through the fabric of her jeans.

Taking another spoon of her nearly-finished, much smaller bowl, Regina only smirked at her. Her half-glance spoke volumes, her words evident even unspoken. And oddly, Emma could almost hear them in her head, echoing in Regina's voice: _You didn't really think I'd give up so easily, did you dear? _The mayor put down her spoon in the now-empty dish, raising an eyebrow. Her hand clenched, fingernails raking over denim, headed up her thigh. The flesh beneath almost quivered, goosebumps rising under Regina's touch, and Emma hid her moan behind another swallow, the mostly-melted treat coating her throat.

Shifting her leg out of reach, she clattered the spoon onto the empty bowl in what she hoped was a note of finality. "...That was good, Regina," she conceded with a near-glare. "Thank you." _For reminding me what this is really about._

The mayor only smirked in return, but her hand stayed away from her leg for now. "It was, wasn't it?" she preened.

Henry, oblivious to the subtext and finished as well, immediately hopped out of his seat. "Mom... can Emma play a Wii game with me before bedtime?"

"...That depends on Miss Swan," Regina replied with a look, brow raise in challenge. _Can you handle more? _

_...Henry has a Wii?_ Emma thought, before immediately correcting: _Scratch that, Regina actually owns a TV?_ Outwardly, she gave a quick smile to her son. "Sure, kid. Why don't you go set one up while I help your Mom with the dishes?" She turned back to the Mayor, glaring back at the challenge in silent answer, eyes steeled with her own resolve. She was determined not to lose this. _You bet your sweet ass I can._

Henry stared at her for a second, as if it was beyond him that anyone but his Mom would do dishes.

Regina looked just as surprised, but covered it quickly. "You don't have to, dear, if it's too much for you."

"...I can handle doing the dishes, Regina." Emma rolled her eyes, but smirked in return. "Go on, kid."

Henry beamed and bounded away. "'Kay! I get first controller!"

Regina smiled, and even with her arms full of dirtied ice cream bowls, she managed to look every inch the queen. "This way, then, Miss Swan," she purred, and sauntered her way into the kitchen.

And once again, Emma had to wonder if this was really a good idea. Alone with Regina Mills, still several hours before her 'appointment.' She gulped, and then took a deep breath before following. She could do this.


	6. Wet Cotton

Chapter IV: Wet Cotton

Pairing: Swan Queen

Rating: M

_A/N: Sorry for taking so long, gentle readers. But we're getting very close now to the part I know you all want. Enjoy, and if you feel so inclined, leave me a message._

_~M_

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><p>She wasn't sure whether or not to be disappointed when Regina actually led them to the sink. True, Emma herself had her arms full of plates to Regina's bowls, but somehow the idea that they'd actually be doing dishes had been low in her list of possibilities. Still, she found watching Regina sauntering towards the sink was entirely too captivating. Regina's hips were swaying ever-so-slightly, the curve of her ass in high definition against her skirt when she bent over to place each ice cream bowl individually in the sudsy water. Emma had to wonder if Regina knew how aroused she was getting, just watching her. Even with all the tension between them, even with her son in the other room, she wondered if Regina knew the effect she had on her. If she knew she was already-<p>

"Wet or dry, Miss Swan?"

"What?" Emma squeaked, blinking as Regina finally turned around, all too amused. Shaking herself, the Sheriff continued to stare at the mayor, wondering if she'd misheard. Like a predatory cat, Regina stepped closer, closing the distance between them with slow, methodical steps. Her hand outstretched. And too late, Emma realized she'd made a mistake in allowing her hands to still be holding plates; Regina's were now empty, and coming closer.

Wordlessly, Emma could only watch as tapered fingers parted the air near her face, an inch away from touching her skin. With a thoughtful expression, Regina regarded her carefully, and Emma felt so much on display she might as well be nude. And then she shivered, remembering exactly how it had felt to see Regina be both of those things, the previous evening. Emma's knees began to tremble.

Finally, Regina's hands swerved down to make contact, reaching for her own. Emma had to blink in surprise, and almost whimpered when all those fingers did was gingerly pluck the soiled dishes from her hands.

Regina never looked down, keeping her gaze glued to Emma's as she took the plates. Her face was slightly admonishing, but her eyes glittered with amusement. "Drying it is, then," she chuckled. The dishes joined the others in the soapy water. She paused, regarding Emma as if she were some kind of pet. "Though I'm not sure I should trust you around porcelain at all at the moment. You appear... distracted." The tip of her tongue emerged, wetting her lower lips before retreating. Regina began to roll up her sleeves, and finally turned away from Emma.

As if a spell had been broken, Emma bristled, mentally shaking herself. Her _dishes. _They were alone in the room, the sexual tension between them so thick you could practically cut it with a knife, and Regina was worried about her fucking dishes. "I'm _fine,_" Emma insisted, and moved to stand next to the woman already beginning to scrub the first of dinner's dishes. "I managed to eat off of it just fine, thanks."

Appearing thoughtful, Regina looked up at her, taking great care in handing Emma the first of the dishes- a fork, the blonde noted with a grunt of disdain. "So you did," smirked the Mayor. "Now if only you could keep to a set schedule with such... diligence."

Emma snarled, making sure to rub the fork to pristine dryness with the towel she'd picked up before setting it to the side, and opened her mouth to retort.

Only to have Regina interrupt, giving a shrug, eyes fully back on the dishes she was scrubbing. "Not that it wasn't clever of you, I'll grant you. Manipulating Henry. Using the emotions of ...our ...son-" and she appeared to struggle not to choke on the pronoun- "to work so well to your advantage." She paused, having assessed Emma's job at the fork and deeming her worthy of something larger- a cup. She looked up again as she handed it over. "I'm almost impressed."

Emma took the cup a bit too forcefully, rubbing it dry in a matter of seconds. "Yeah, well. Thanks." Her gaze hardened, tone becoming accusatory, trying to quell the sense of guilt that was rapidly rising in her. "You did it first."

Brown eyes flashed up at her, in anger or amusement, or perhaps both. She handed over a plate. "So I did."

They grew silent, eyes dropping down to their respective tasks as each dish was cleaned in turn, and then placed, sparkling, on the counter. It wasn't long before Regina was drying her hands, Emma still working on the casserole dish. The silence was deafening. Time to extend an olive branch. A tiny one. "...Thank you," the blonde finally muttered, turning the dish in her hands. "For dinner. ...That was probably the best lasagne I've ever had."

"Of course it was." Regina wasn't looking at her, tugging the sleeve of her shirt down to re-button it. "There's no sense in my doing anything without doing it well."

At that, Emma couldn't help but bark a laugh, reaching up on her toes to place the dish in the cabinet. "'Well?'" she echoed, incredulous. "Working me into a fever pitch over two goddamn days only to leave me handcuffed to the fucking jail cell?" It was hard, but she managed to keep her voice level. The last thing she wanted was for Henry to come running in here.

"And here you stand, Miss Swan," Regina purred against her ear, and Emma jumped a bit. Another mistake: she'd taken her eyes off Regina. It was unbelievable, how quickly the mayor was able to insinuate herself next to her. And even moreso how quickly Emma felt herself responding.

Biting back a groan as Regina pressed the length of herself closely to Emma's back, she felt fingers almost casually trailing along the curve of her arm, still outstretched to the cabinet though the dish was long since put away. Lowering her arm, Emma turned, facing the woman so close to her, and that was perhaps her greatest mistake of the evening so far. The look of desire on Regina's face was so enthralling it was practically tangible. Her eyes were dark with lust, pupils blown wide, and Emma shivered, knees weakening despite herself. "Right where you wanted me?" she squeaked again.

Regina didn't seem to mind the change in position, leaning in to mold herself into Emma's chest. The lips so near her ear parted, the tongue peeking out to ever so lightly graze over her earlobe. Hands found their way to the waistline of her jeans, hooking in the belt loops but otherwise staying put. Keeping Emma there. She could hear Regina's thrum of pleasure as she affirmed: "Right where I wanted you." And then Regina's lips were wrapped around her earlobe, sucking slowly. Gently.

Emma gasped before she could help it, a hand reaching to tangle in Regina's hair. The other slid lower, clenching at the soft silk of her shirt. Shivering, Emma's head tilted to the side of its own accord to grant Regina better access, exposing the long column of her throat. Which Regina wasted no time in placing heated kisses against, the barest edge of her teeth grazing over Emma's skin. "Mmm..." she purred in between kisses. "Do you-" kiss "have any idea-" kiss "what I'm going to do to you-" nip "Miss Swan?"

Hot lips closed directly over her pulse-point, and Emma didn't even have a chance to bite back her yelp of mixed surprise and desire. Though her hands clenched- the one in Regina's hair tugged. Protesting as much as she could. Chuckling, Regina's tongue ran up the length of her neck. And finally, deft fingers slid without warning beneath the waistband of her jeans, forcing their way down to cup Emma's sex through her panties.

And if Regina had not been aware, before, of her effect on her, she certainly was now. Her panties were soaked. "Oh," Regina chuckled again at the discovery, lightly squeezing over Emma's sex, the thin cotton doing nothing to protect from questing fingers. "I see you do."

Closing her eyes, Emma exhaled deeply, trying to gain some tiny measure of control over her mutinous body. Trying not to moan and whimper and gasp out for Regina to fuck her right then and there. She needed to regain control somehow. She couldn't allow Regina to win this. Not here. Not like this.

As if on cue, the clock from the dining room began to strike. Seven o'clock.

Emma took another deep breath, her head struggling to clear. A feat made much harder by the light tapping of Regina's fingers against her heat, in time with the chimes. With a burst of self-control, Emma grabbed Regina's wrist, staring at her with steel in her gaze. Yanking those damn, talented fingers away from her, Emma stepped back, putting much needed distance between herself and the mayor."...You have me where you want, maybe," she gasped, releasing Regina's wrist, her breath fighting to return to normal. "But not _when._"

A flash of anger in brown eyes. Madame Mayor did not take kindly, apparently, to being told 'no.' Even if it wasn't in so many words. And then Regina, too, took a breath.

Immediately after, Henry's voice sounded from the other side of the door. "Mo- Emma?" he called, stopping himself, but not before a pained look came into Regina's eye. "You coming?"

Emma winced at the poor choice of words. "...Just finishing something up with your Mom, Henry," she answered back, a little breathless. "Gimme a minute."

"Kay!" their son called back, all-too-chipper.

It was another moment before either of them moved. Regina did first, looking at the Sheriff, her face completely unaffected again. Gone was the look of pain, her pupils were their normal size, the ever-present mask of her mayoral sang-froid slid so firmly back into place so effortlessly that Emma envied it. She almost hated it, and vowed that before the night was over, she would take wicked delight in absolutely crushing it.

Regina simply gave a slight incline of her head, glancing at the door. "Keep in mind while playing with my son, Miss Swan: Henry needs to be in his bed no later than nine-fifteen." She surged forward, closing what distance Emma had managed to get between them in a matter of seconds. Before she could protest, Regina's lips were once again at her ear, tongue flicking along the crown. "And in case you've forgotten," Regina continued in a sultry purr: "I expect you in _mine_ by ten."

Emma couldn't help it: she moaned, her hands automatically moving to rest on Regina's waist. Realizing, she dropped them, mentally kicked herself immediately afterward. God_damn _Regina for cracking through her self-control so easily. She was of half a mind to admit Henry was right; that Regina really was the Evil Queen and had obviously cast some kind of sexy spell on her. That would explain it all, right?

Withdrawing, Regina smiled as if nothing had happened, and patted Emma's cheek condescendingly before nodding towards the door. "Run along now. I'm sure my son is getting impatient. He's never been very good at waiting. A trait I'm sure he picked up from you."

"Probably," Emma muttered, hoping it came out as stronger than she felt. Straightening her back, she managed to recover more of her senses, and glared back at Regina with steel in her gaze. "...Though if the mood strikes me," she continued, "I _can_ be pretty. Damn. Patient."

Raising an eyebrow, Regina, knowing her, probably only took that as a challenge. Her eyes raked hungrily back over Emma's entire body, lingering over certain areas in a way that made Emma flush again with need. The corner of Regina's lips rose again. "We shall see." She nodded again towards the door.

With another swallow and a deep breath, Emma managed to keep glaring at her until she left the room. She very nearly stomped her way to the living room before catching sight of her son, and then flashed him a smile. "Hope you picked something violent," she muttered. "I really want to shoot something."


	7. Soft and Silky

**Chapter VII: **Soft and Silky

_A/N: A bit of fluff involving Mario Kart, which, if you don't know, is pretty much the sweetest game ever. Followed by things that are far less fluffy. Hope you enjoy._

_~M_

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><p>Shaking his head a little sheepishly, Henry laughed. "I don't have any shooting games. But I do have Mario Kart?" he offered, holding out the Wii Wheel.<p>

Emma shook herself mentally, trying with limited success to erase what had happened in the kitchen from her mind, and reached out to take it. "Awesome," she managed a grin. "That'll definitely work."

Henry just beamed back at her, and the innocence, the happiness, the complete and utter joy that was radiated in that smile was enough to make Emma's heart flutter for reasons entirely different those that had caused its earlier thumping. She was speechless for a second, and it occurred to her to wonder how the hell one person's body could ever hope to handle so much emotional overload in one night. She tried to hide the tumult in her head by taking a second to shrug off her red jacket and leave it draped over the couch, and then she bent to remove her boots.

When that was done, Henry was loading the game, and it came time for Emma to wrench her thoughts away and look at the screen, where animated versions of Henry and herself were being selected.

Emma felt her heart go at it again. "You made me a Mii?"

Beside her, her son just shrugged, the top of his iron man pajamas raising a bit as he did. "Well, yeah. I was gonna wait and let you do it, but you and Mom took so long doing dishes I just... what?" He'd glanced over at her, and must have seen some glimmer of how touched she felt through her eyes.

Blinking it away, Emma just shook her head, giving another smile. "Nothing, I just... thanks, kid."

Not entirely buying it, Henry looked at her, a little perplexed, and then grinned impishly as his thumb selected 'versus' mode. "...Okay. Well, I'm gonna cream you, so you're welcome."

And that was really all it took for Emma's competitive streak to come flaring back to life with a vengeance. "Oh, you think so, kid?" She elbowed him playfully. "We'll see about that."

Another beaming smile, and then it was time to choose their characters. Henry did so almost instantly, his fingers hitting the controls so fast that it must have mostly been muscle memory. "Aha!" said the character on the screen.

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Guess you always pick Mario, huh?"

"Well, duh," Henry rolled his eyes. "He's the hero. Who're you gonna pick?" he grinned. "Princess Peach?"

"Uh, no." Emma pulled a face, staring in horror at the crowned blonde in all pink. Glancing over all the options, she made her selection and then smirked. A low growling roar came afterward.

Henry's eyes widened. "...Bowser? But he's the bad guy!"

"He's got a pretty sweet car, kid."

Considering this for a moment, Henry paused before moving to the next field of selection. "Whatever," he grinned. "You're gonna need all the help you can get."

Emma just laughed. "Bring it on, short stuff."

At the end of the first round, with the animated Bowser jumping up and down on the first place pedestal, Henry begrudgingly admitted that he did have a pretty cool car. After Henry won the round after that, he didn't choose Mario.

The next few hours were a blur of banana peels, mushrooms, and laughter. Their sixth round of racing had to be declared a tie, since the race itself was paused for an impromptu tickling battle. No one could really officially say who won, since they both wound up falling off the couch in a fit of giggles.

It was while she was trying to catch her breath that Emma happened to notice the time. Nine-thirty. The laughter died in her throat, replaced by a feeling far lower, and far more ominous. She stood up immediately. "Crap, Henry! It's past your bedtime! Your mom's gonna kill me!"

Looking confused, Henry slowly rose from the floor. "What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that your Mom was pretty insistent you be in bed by nine-fifteen!" she hissed, fumbling to turn off both TV and Wii and set the controllers in their assigned spots. Of course they had specific spots. Heaven forbid anything ever be out of place in Regina's house. Like her. Emma resisted the urge to shiver. "Come on, kid! Up the stairs, brush your teeth, go!"

"Okay, okay," Henry grumbled, slowly making his way to the bottom of the stairs.

Emma glared at his sluggishness. "You wanna go back to only seeing me through binoculars and talking to a walkie-talkie?" She couldn't help it, the wave of desire that swept over her at the mere mention of that thing. Regina had destroyed any hope she had of ever using it again.

"No!" Henry declared adamantly.

"Then we have to play by your Mom's rules for a while. Which means you, bed, now!"

When put like that... Henry raced the rest of the way up the stairs, and it was a good thing his shoes were long since off, or he probably would have lost one. He skidded into the bathroom in his socks, brushed his teeth in record (but thorough) time, and then raced into his room.

Not entirely sure whether she should follow and head upstairs yet or not, Emma still breathed a sigh of relief, quickly retracted when Henry's head popped back out. "You gonna come tuck me in?" he called down the stairs hopefully.

She couldn't help it; she smiled at his enthusiasm. "Yeah, kid. I'd love to." She ascended the steps a lot less rapidly than Henry did, a swell of nervousness settling into her stomach as each minute of the clock clicked closer to... her appointment.

As she rounded the bannister, she couldn't help but glance in the directions of Regina's room. The door was open, the bed made, the room looking soft and inviting. And empty.

Her brow furrowed, and she entered her son's room. "Where'd your Mom get to?"

"I dunno," Henry shrugged, and it was obvious he didn't really care.

Emma's teeth worried at her lower lip. It hadn't seemed odd at the time, but really, with Regina being such a control freak, it was surprising that she hadn't come to make sure Henry was in bed on time. For that matter, why hadn't Regina come to check on them at all during the games? They'd certainly been making enough noise.

She was roused from her troubling thought pattern by her son shaking her arm.

"Hey, Emma. Read me a story."

Blinking, her brow crossed again, though this time it was more in confusion. "Aren't you kinda old for that? And no, by the way. It's already past your bedtime."

Henry frowned. "You said Mom said I had to be 'in bed' by nine-fifteen. Did she say what time I actually had to be asleep?"

"Well, no, but-"

"So... I'm in bed. Read me a story."

Emma had to stifle a chuckle. He was so obviously her kid. Giving an overly-dramatic sigh, she caved. "Okay, fine. But no fairy tales."

One decidedly long chapter of Harry Potter later, Henry was well on his was to dreamland, and Emma was well on hers to an anxiety attack. It was hell on the nerves, counting the minutes, knowing that once the clock struck ten she had another ...obligation. As she closed the book and brushed a few stray hairs out of her son's face, Emma had to wonder if she was really up for this. Whatever 'this' was, between her and Regina.

She could just sneak down the stairs, get back into her car and drive away without seeing Regina again this evening. But that would undoubtedly piss the mayor off to the point she'd forbid her from seeing Henry again, at the very least. Or try to frame her for murder or something at the worst. And there was no way, she told herself, she could keep Henry in her life without running into Regina.

And there was the slight problem that her body, at least, really, really _wanted _to stay. Running wouldn't resolve the damned sexual tension that lay between them.

Tugging a hand through her hair with a sigh, Emma stood, put the book on Henry's bedside table, and left the room, pulling the door shut behind her. She glanced at the clock in the hall. Nine fifty-seven.

With slightly unsteady steps, she moved through the hall, the distance seeming to grow longer with each step, until finally, she reached the threshold of the doorway and peeked inside Regina's room. Still empty.

The thought crossed her mind that this could be Regina's idea of payback. Emma had come for her 'appointment' far too early, so maybe as punishment she was going to make her wait? A growl built in the back of the sheriff's throat. That would be so, so like Regina. Giving full voice to her frustrated growl, Emma entered the room, shivering slightly as bare feet left the hall runner and came into contact with the cold wood of the floor.

With an exaggerated huff of air through her nose, she sat on the edge of the bed and waited. The hall clock began to chime. Emma almost laughed. She was here, in Regina's bed, right on time. So where the hell was Regina?

Ten strokes later, and the echoes of the chime receded through the otherwise empty house. Emma groaned, and fell back the bed.

Which, of course, is when the door to the room clicked shut, and a smug voice was clearly audible: "You're on time. How refreshing."

Startled and sitting up quickly, Emma schooled her features to glare at the older woman, taking in the coat, the purse, the bag of... something in her hand. "Where were you?"

Regina turned away, setting her purse and keys on the stand beside the door that was there specifically to hold them. "I had an errand to run." The bag, she kept in her hand.

"So you just left me alone with your kid without saying anything?" Emma wasn't entirely sure why she was so angry at the idea. But something about the fact that Regina has just... left completely galled her.

Regina only laughed a little, moving to her enormous closet and hanging up her coat with a sort of bland indifference to Emma's presence in her room. "You seemed pretty insistent that he was your son, too, Miss Swan. Are you saying you're incapable of watching him for a few hours?"

"Of course not, but-"

"Isn't time with Henry exactly what you wanted?" Regina stepped out of her heels.

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Then I don't see a problem." She smiled, setting the bag down at the foot of the bed, and for the first time, turned her full attention to the woman currently occupying her bed. She approached slowly, predatory in her steps, eyes raking over Emma as if she were something to be devoured.

Emma shivered, and then cursed herself for doing it. Regina noticed, of course, and grinned, placing her arms to either side of Emma's legs, leaning over her on the bed. Warm breath exhaled out, leaving the scent of apples in its wake, overwhelmingly sweet. And intoxicating.

Wetting suddenly dry lips, Emma found herself staring into Regina's eyes, pupils slowly expanding. She almost felt like she could drown in them.

She _could _drown in them, she realized. And it was exactly what Regina wanted her to do.

She shook her head, backing herself away. "We're not going to do this anymore."

That cat's paw smile followed, Regina climbing onto the bed on all fours as Emma retreated. Her lips came within touching distance of the Sheriff, though Regina's hands remained on the bed. "Do what, dear?" Regina more purred than spoke, using that warm, sexy liquid honey voice that, had she been standing, would have made Emma's knees promptly turn to jelly.

"This," Emma clarified. "This... thing when you get your way all the time. We're not doing it anymore."

Regina's eyes darkened considerably, her whole posture shifted. The sex kitten was gone, replaced by something far angrier, far darker. Far more dangerous.

And still, Emma realized with a growing sense of dread, as sexy as hell. She curled her legs beneath her, almost defensively.

"You don't think so?" Regina echoed.

"No. I'm sure of it."

The darker woman laughed, finally approaching and leaning forward over Emma. Her hand raised, fingertips ghosting over the curve of Emma's cheek before the Sheriff snapped her head back. "And yet here you are, in my bed, waiting for me." Regina's amusement was palpable. "All because I told you to be. What part of that, exactly, is you making sure I don't get my way?"

"The part where I do this." And she launched herself at the older woman, grabbing Regina's wrists in her hands and latching her legs around her middle. Stunned and off-guard, Regina found herself rolled, pinned to the bed with an extremely satisfying "oof!" of surprise and pain.

It was one of the best things Emma had heard in days.

"What the hell do you think you're-" Regina's protest was interrupted by Emma's lips crashing into hers. The kiss was all fury- lips and teeth clacking together ominously. Regina struggled, bucking against the Sheriff, her lips fervently trying to close as Emma's tongue demanded entry.

It was no use. Emma was too persistent, her mouth too demanding to deny. Slowly, Regina found herself struggling less, accommodating more, until finally she answered the kiss with a hunger to rival Emma's own. The sheriff groaned into her lips as she finally broke down, pressing her body along the full length of Regina's, wanting to feel every curve and swell beneath her own.

Somehow her leg ended up pressed between both of Regina's, and she thrust it forwards, meeting the apex of the older woman's thighs and rocking against it. Regina moaned, then, spreading her legs wider before she could think better of it, eager for more contact.

Emma chuckled.

Lack of oxygen finally forced them apart, and when Emma finally pulled back just a little, it was her eyes that were dark with lust. Her lips that Regina couldn't seem to take her eyes off.

But that didn't stop her from smiling, shaking her wrists in token protest of her semi restraint. "...You enjoy having me pinned against things, don't you, Miss Swan?"

"Emma!" the blonde hissed with a pointed thrust of her thigh.

Regina bit back another moan, her eyelids fluttering and teeth sinking into her own lower lip. "Fine," she conceded raggedly. "_Emma. _Answer the question."

"I enjoy anything that makes you lose some of your precious control," she growled in response, their noses touching as she menaced forward. She was so goddamn tired of Regina's smugness. Regina's bitchy, holier-than-thou attitude. But mostly, she was tired of the way Regina always seemed to win.

"You want me to lose control?" Regina challenged, arching froward to run her tongue up the blonde's cheek before ending at her ear. "You want me reduced to whimpers and sobs and pleading as I writhe underneath you?"

Emma had to shut her eyes from the mental image of that. The power behind her grip lessened, a massive quake of need shuddering its way through her body, forcing out a strangled gasp. "Yes," she whispered. Her eyes snapped open, and she released one of Regina's wrists, leaving her forearm free to jam directly underneath the older woman's chin, pressing her neck into the bed. "Yes, I want that!" she growled. Had she not been so tightly wound, Emma may well have taken a step back then. And in some tiny corner of her mind, she was cringing. Her own ferocity was a little frightening to her.

But Regina did not look scared. She was smiling. And with an answering low growl, Regina said something Emma had never expected her to say. Something that quieted that tiny voice, and made it virtually impossible for her to back down.

"Then take it."


	8. Nude

Title: Black Lace

Pairing: Swan Queen

Rating: NC-17

**Chapter VIII: ** Nude

_A/N: Because even I'm not mean enough to make you all wait a full two weeks before updating. Extra-long chapter, gentle readers! Enjoy._

_~M_

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><p>"...Take it?" Emma echoed, unsure if she'd heard the woman beneath her properly or not. The pressure of her arm against Regina's neck lessened just a little.<p>

Chuckling, Regina took advantage of the fact that one of her hands was free, brushing a bit of blonde hair behind Emma's ear in a gesture that was oddly tender. Almost disturbingly so, everything else considered. Her gaze fell intently on Emma's lips, already kiss-swollen and dark, before looking her in the eye. "Take it," Regina repeated, still smiling. That same dangerous look returned to her eyes, belying the gentility of her hand. "If you can."

A challenge. God, everything with Regina was a fucking challenge. Even fucking. Emma paused a moment, as if weighing a options. Regina had thrown down the gauntlet. But by trying to take control, would Emma be playing right into the mayor's hands? Did the mayor _want _to be dominated? Swearing inwardly, Emma realized that now no matter which path she chose, submission or domination, Regina would win. If she submitted, Regina would have her way, but if she dominated... well, the older woman had dared her to do so. So she'd still get what she wanted.

As if watching the understanding dawn in her eyes, the darker woman grinned, leaning up to playfully nip at her collarbone. "Figure it out, did you, dear?"

And then Emma did swear, under her breath. She had to think of something... do... something. She became consciously aware of the buttons of Regina's shirt, dragging and catching along the thin material of her tank top every time the older woman drew in another slightly ragged breath. Her decision made itself. "Right," she finally decided, releasing the other woman and rolling so her feet could hit the floor. "Get up." She stood without waiting for the other woman to comply, her hands flying to the base of her tank top.

"Excuse me?"

Already preoccupied in removing her own clothing, Emma flung the white garment to floor before turning back and glaring at Regina. "Get up!" she insisted, grabbing Regina's wrist again and tugging her forwards. "You're wearing too much."

Incredulous, Regina just looked at her soon-to-be lover, wrenching her wrist from Emma's grasp and glaring as she sat up on the bed. "If you'll remember, I already gave you a show, dear," she huffed. "I don't do repeat performances."

"Good!" Emma growled, reaching for the zipper of her jeans and pulling it down. "Because like hell I'd be just watching!" She struggled with her jeans, managing to shimmy them down her hips in her haste, but fighting to get the tight material off of her legs.

After a moment amusement spent just watching Emma lose a battle to too-tight denim, Regina rolled her eyes and slid off the bed. "Oh, for god's sake, here." Firm, steady hands landed on the troublesome fabric. A few precise tugs later, and the tight jeans fell to floor in a heap, leaving Emma bare but for her undergarments. She stood staring at the jumbled heap of her jeans, bewildered.

"...How did you do that?"

Regina tossed her hair over to one side of her neck, moving it out of the way as she began to slowly and methodically undo the buttons of her shirt. "I used to wear a lot of leather," she offered nonchalantly. "Be a dear and unzip me, will you?"

Regina... in... leather. Emma had to take a second to process the image that followed. She seemed to be doing that with increasing regularity, in Regina's presence, and this time, she tried desperately not to drool. "...Uh, sure." Her fingers found the zipper of Regina's skirt, and she had to stop them from trembling as she began to tug it down. Though she made no such effort when her hands automatically moved to cup Regina's ass as it came into prominent view, hidden slightly, as always, by sheer black lace.

"Thank you, dear," Regina murmured, though whether in response to the grope or the zipper, Emma couldn't be sure. Regina slid out of her grasp for a moment, stepping out of the garment in the same motion she flung her shirt to the floor. "Now then," she purred, her eyes trailing a hungry path down the revealed curves of Emma's body. She stepped closer, wrapping an arm around the sheriff's waist in a gesture that positively oozed sexuality, tugging her closer. "Where were we?"

As an answer, Emma curled both hands around that glorious ass, and likewise pulled Regina to her. Their mouths met, and the mayor responded immediately, her tongue flicking over the edge of Emma's lower lip. Demanding entry. Entry that Emma was all too happy to give her. She kept her eyes open, watching Regina's as the older woman's tongue invaded her mouth, tracing over every inch. Exploring her. Claiming her. She watched as Regina's eyes sparkled with pleasure, content and pleased in the knowledge that she'd won.

And she watched when that expression changed to confusion and pain as Emma took advantage of her distraction and kicked Regina's legs out from under her in one fell swoop. Startled, Regina crumpled, falling to the floor with a loud thump and a hiss of pain. Not giving her any time to regroup or even protest, Emma was on her, pressing her into the carpet, hands raking over bare shoulders and then lower still to grip over biceps, mouth falling once more over those delectable lips, drinking in her protest.

Arching her back, Regina tried desperately to object physically to this new position as best she could, but Emma would not be bucked off. Regina growled against the sheriff's lips, her hands coming around to weave through blonde curls and tug, viciously. Emma hissed, but did not budge. And still their kiss continued, far angrier, far more violent. Tongues dueled for supremacy in a fury of bites and licks, each determined to rip their pleasure from the other woman's mouth. Lack of oxygen finally forced them to part, and heads turned to the side, gasping, grunting as they lay on the floor.

Emma's hands slid up and then down, coming to rest just over Regina's neck. Dark eyes grew wide for a moment, though not with fear. With another smirk, far less easy in coming than those previous, Regina slid one of her thighs between Emma's legs, a shiver of approval running through her when Emma couldn't help but moan. Their breathing had synched by then, chests rising and falling heavily in the same cadence as Emma pressed herself closer still. Cotton against lace.

Hands traveling lower, the blonde's fingers slipped just underneath the black bra strap, sliding it almost teasingly down until it fell completely off Regina's shoulder. Regina glanced at it, at the fingers sliding steadily further down her chest. "I'm beginning to detect a pattern here, Sheriff." She arched a perfect brow. "The wall, the cells, the bed. But really, dear. The floor?"

Emma smirked back, her knees maneuvering to hit the floor on either side of Regina's thighs. "At least you can never say I'm not adaptable."

Still wanting desperately to fight and get the blonde off of her, something in green eyes gave Regina pause. Her other protests died before she gave them voice. Her hands slowly fell away from Emma's hair, resting with wrists bared to either side of her own head. She waited. It wasn't something she was used to.

Keeping her eyes on Regina's, Emma inched her head forward and down, as if moving in for another kiss. But her lips had another destination in mind, veering instead to take the topmost edge of lace between her teeth, and tug it down.

Regina wet her lips, her hands moving to rub over the sheriff's back. "Uh-uh," Emma snapped, stopping immediately. "No hands."

Regina blinked, arching a brow incredulously. "You cannot be serious."

"Hey, you said 'take control,' I'm taking control. But I'm doing it my way, Regina. Which means: No. hands." Emma smiled, but her gaze was hard. She was deadly serious. Their previous encounters over the course of the past two days had proved one thing to her above all: Regina was handsy. Very handsy. And Emma found it hard think when the brunette was touching her. Thus, eliminating it was the only thing she could think of to keep Regina from completely winning this. "Got it? Because I think my handcuffs are still in my jacket, and I do kinda owe you one..."

"That won't be necessary, _Sheriff_," Regina nearly spat, making sure to emphasize the title. "I'll keep my hands to myself. For now." She didn't mention the fact that the idea of being handcuffed... of being bound in _any _way filled her with dread, flooding her with memories long since buried. Or at least attempted to be. She gave a slight shudder, hoping that Emma took it as one of desire.

Emma didn't seem to notice at all, really. She was too focused on the fact that Regina had agreed so quickly. "Good,"was all she said. _Then maybe I can actually think. _And she bent her head to return to her previous task. Regina's breath hitched as lips came a breath away from her nipple, but Emma would not be tempted away from her task. Not yet. She waited until the cup of Regina's bra had been completely pulled down by her teeth, revealing the creamy skin of her breast in its entirety, so much paler than the rest of her tanned skin. And then she did the same to the other side.

Making sure to keep her hands clenched firmly at her sides, Regina could only watch in aroused fascination the almost... reverence with which Emma exposed her chest. Finally, both breasts were completely revealed to the hungry gaze of the blonde, shaking slightly with each of Regina's trembling breaths, each inhale growing heavier than the last.

"It's really not fair, you know," Emma whispered, leaning over her hungrily.

Long strands of blonde hair brushing over the olive skin of the mayor, making her shake her head repeatedly. Almost tempted to gather it in her hands and get the tickling stuff away, she gave a long-suffering sigh, but her hands stayed put. "What isn't?" she growled, a little annoyed.

Emma chuckled, her warm breath brushing over Regina's chest. She strung a trail of hot kisses to a rapidly stiffening nipple, and laved her tongue across it before blowing cool air over the wet flesh. Regina gasped at the sudden sensation, hands wanting to twist in Emma's hair, to tug her head down closer to her chest. Instead she clenched her fists, her fingernails digging small crescents into the inside of her palms. But she did not touch the blonde. It was a stupid rule, she thought. But if Emma thought she could break her with it, she was sorely mistaken.

But Emma was just as stubborn as she was, a fact they both knew from repeated encounters, and refused to be hurried. Watching the nipple stiffen from the attention, she quirked her head to the side before finally completing her thought."...How beautiful you are," she confessed. And with no further warning, her lips closed around the nipple, sucking on it roughly. The very tip of her tongue toyed with it, flicking across the sensitive flesh while it was in her mouth before slowly releasing, raking her teeth lightly over the sensitive flesh as she did so.

The words alone were enough to send a startled pulse of fresh arousal coursing through the older woman. When coupled with the sudden action... she came very close to screaming, only stopping by quickly pressing the back of her own hand against her mouth and biting down. Henry's room was just down the hall, after all. Any further doubts in her mind about having Emma being on top were quickly laid to rest, especially when, noting her reaction, the blonde switched to her other nipple and repeated the whole process again. Regina's hips bucked, her legs shifting beneath the blonde, eliciting a muffled grunt against her breast.

A wonderfully dangerous look began to burn behind Regina's eyes. Refusing to simply sit still any longer, she bent her knee, arching it upwards in one swift motion to rub her thigh, tauntingly, over Emma's sex. The resulting surprised groan of arousal was positively delicious. And she wasn't using her hands.

"Oh, god!" Emma hissed, pausing in her own ministrations as Regina rocked her thigh backwards and forwards against her heat. Biting her lip, Emma fell against her lover's chest, arms shaking as she tried to distribute her weight on either side of Regina's shoulders. "Regina!"

The mayor managed a smirk. "Problem, Miss Swan?"Her thigh arced high still, grinding into the sheriff until she could feel Emma's wetness through her panties. She gave a delighted laugh. "I'm curious, dear: are you always so wet, or is it just me?"

But the laugh seemed to pull Emma out of her temporary haze of lust. Taking a deep breath, she reared back, her weight shifting to force Regina's thigh back to the floor. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she grinned, her own chest beginning to quiver with uneven breaths.

A frown graced the other woman's full lips, unhappy that the sheriff had recovered so quickly. But her attention was quickly consumed by Emma's hand slipping lower, skipping over the area that so wanted to be touched and crawling down to Regina's inner thighs, tracing patterns over the skin there. Laughter dying in her throat, Regina could only grunt, her head falling back to the floor as Emma began to toy with the pooling wetness that proved she was not as unaffected she sometimes appeared. "What about you, Madame Mayor?" Emma asked with a taunt, rolling her hips forward directly onto both of Regina's thighs.

Regina could only gasp in response, biting down harder on her own hand as Emma rocked against her. Finally, Emma could wait no longer, and slid her fingers under the soaked lace, and very, very lightly rubbed over Regina's clitoris. Shuddering, the mayor dropped both hands, raking her fingernails roughly over the carpet. Emma gradually increased the pressure on Regina's clit, a second finger extending to run up and down the full length of her heat. She loved how wet the older woman was for her. With a wicked little grin, she drew her hand and head teasingly away. And finally, after dreaming about it since watching so hungrily the night before, Emma brought her fingers to her lips, and had her first taste of Regina Mills.

She half expected to taste apples.

Regina could only watch in rapt fascination as Emma's mouth closed around her fingers, eagerly lapping up her taste. She groaned at the sight, brown eyes clouding over with lust. Her back arched of its own accord, pressing her chest up to meet the blonde's. Though her hands stayed still, continuing to obey Emma's rule. At least for now.

After what seemed like hours, Emma finished, licking her lips to consume every last bit. With a pleased smile, she ran her wet hand teasingly down the older woman's chest, so wonderfully presented before her, before traveling lower still, slipping again beneath the waistband of still-present, soaked lace panties. "You taste amazing, Regina," she purred, her lips hovering just over those of her lover.

"Do I?" Regina managed to gasp out, and was proud that her words were more than halfway coherent. "I'm glad you like it," she finished, and then lunged, damning the rules and wrapping her arms around Emma's shoulders to pull her close, desperate to cover the blonde's lips with her own.

Emma gave a squeak of protest, but recovered quickly, answering the kiss with passionate abandon, loving the two combined tastes of Regina Mills. And the fact that she'd made her break. But her retribution to the rule-breaking was swift. With a sudden, single thrust, her fingers slid deep within the mayor. As deep as she could, and then she left them there for a moment. Groaning loudly into the their kiss, Regina clenched her inner walls around them. With a smile, Emma gradually spread her fingers further apart, stretching those walls even as they contracted. She pulsed her fingers shallowly within the other woman, never really removing them or drawing them out, but simply bending the digits at the second knuckle and then extending them again in quick succession. Her thumb began to brush over Regina's clitoris.

Regina broke the kiss first, her fingers tangling in blonde curls, wrapping them around her fingers as she clung, gasping, to Emma. She buried her face at the meeting of neck and shoulder, sucking, nipping, tasting the sweat-covered skin. Tasting Emma as much as the blonde had just done the same. Each thrust of fingers caused another panting moan, another heave of her chest, around which the scraps of lace still hung uselessly. Emma knew Regina was getting desperately, feverishly close. She waited until the moans began to build, until the very last possible moment before sending the older woman crashing over that glorious edge of ecstasy. And then she pulled away.

"Goddammit!" Regina growled, so very close to the edge of her pleasure, arching herself into those taunting, terrible fingers. She was so close. So very, very close.

Laughing, Emma kept her fingers dancing within the older woman, just enough to tease horribly. "Not fun, is it?" the sheriff taunted with another partial thrust, her thumb just barely skirting over Regina's clit. "Being left hanging on that edge."

The answering glare would probably have melted glass, had Regina willed it so. Emma just laughed again. Turnabout was fair play, and all. She kept her eyes on Regina's, letting her watch as she bent and kissed a swollen nipple before taking it between her lips. Working her fingers in tandem with her mouth, she laved her tongue over the stiff bud just as her fingers pulled further away, only to suckle deeply when they suddenly slammed back in.

Bucking, Regina tugged violently on the blonde's hair, her fingers deeply entwined in the curling locks, eliciting a hiss of pain and a light bite around her nipple. "Dammit, Emma!" Regina snapped. She was writhing with every breath, now, and she released her vice-like hold on Emma's hair to rake dark paths down her lover's bare shoulders with her fingernails. Desperate. Pleading.

"God, Regina..." A groan of sheer pleasure fell from the blonde, loving the sound of her name out of Regina's mouth. She curled her fingers within the mayor, tracing them along her upper walls, and then straightened, crossing and uncrossing in rapid succession. "...Say that again," she ordered.

Nearly swearing, Regina was unable to keep her hips from shaking, her body pressing itself even further into Emma's attentions. God, it felt... it was perfect. This was want she wanted, what she needed, and far, far better than she ever could have imagined. The extra sensation built into her, overwhelming her senses, and she gave a strangled, wordless cry as she drew close. She stared up into the blonde's face, watching as green eyes widened, waiting to hear it... Waiting for her to say it. Falling back against the floor, she moaned again, as much for Emma's benefit as her own, as gave in. "Emma..." she whispered lowly, her fingers gripping tanned shoulders as she bared herself before her lover. "Fuck me."

"That's all you had to say," Emma preened, and a second finger slipped with Regina. And then a third. Adjusting her position, she pressed herself closer to her lover, sliding the full length of her body against Regina's and arching her back, forcing the mayor further into the carpet. With every thrust of her fingers, their nipples slid against one another, the sweat beading between their heaving bodies as they moved as one. Increasing the pace, she began pounding her fingers within clenching hear. Faster, more roughly than before, she dug the heel of her palm into the engorged clit beneath it with every deliciously deep thrust of her fingers.

Knowing she was coming, Regina frantically pulled Emma closer still, crashing their lips together in vague attempt to muffle her cries as the first waves of pleasure began to cascade through her. Emma winced as firm hands gripped her shoulders even tighter, but she did not stop, loving every second of feeling Regina buck against her hand. Though part of the mayor's mind still screamed at this loss of control, the rest of her simply gave in to it, allowing the feeling to escape in every shaking, bucking spasm of her body against her lover's. Giving herself over to sensation, her eyes squeezed shut, and her tongue danced across Emma's lips as she came.

Finally, the spasms within her slowed, the clenching of her walls relaxed, and Emma's fingers stilled within her. Regina released her hold, their lips coming apart in a burning need for oxygen. Emma slid to one side, draping her head over the mayor's chest. Her fingers slipped out of lace underwear with a snap of elastic against skin. But Regina couldn't be bothered to care, still reeling from her pleasure. The room still spun. Emma's hands had fallen to rest with one over Regina's middle, the other curling around a kneecap. She kept them there, lightly caressing over flushed skin, enjoying the moment of post-coital bliss and quiet. Still recovering herself, really. Fucking Regina was... an extremely heady experience. She didn't think she'd ever forget the way the mayor's face had looked, completely relaxed, all traces of the stiff, mayoral persona finally stripped away. It had been extremely gratifying.

Though both women were panting, it was, of course, Regina who managed the breath to speak first, the corners of her lips lifting in an honest smile. "Thank you, dear," she gasped quietly. "You were... better than I thought you'd be."

Lifting her head and shaking mussed hair out of her eyes, Emma just stared at her, then shook her head, stunned. Though she supposed she really shouldn't have been. It _was _still Regina, after all. "Christ, you really know how to shatter a moment, don't you?"

A breathy laugh. "Do I? Hmmn. Allow me to rectify it, then." Without warning, Regina shifted, arching her back off the floor and using the motion to propel herself forward. Emma's hands went wild, releasing Regina as the older woman pounced. Scrambling for balance, Emma found herself flipped neatly over, like an omelet, until it was she whose back was pressed into the carpet, forced to look up as Regina smirked above her. And found her wrists neatly pinned above her head by only one of Regina's hands. "Better?" the mayor purred.

The impressive feat of dexterity and power left Emma more stunned than anything else, gasping raggedly as Regina moved to straddle her knees. "How the fuck did you do that?"

The Mayor only smiled, leaning in low to nip and suckle at Emma's exposed neck. "Despite what you think, dear, I _have_ actually done more than sit behind a desk for the past ten years." And without a word, the fingernails of her free hand began slowly raking their way up Emma's thighs, and any other questions flew completely out of her mind.

Trailing a string of heated kisses from neck to hover over her breasts, her fingers gripped the edge of Emma's bra. Roughly, she yanked it down, and her lips closed over one of the nipples, suckling and toying with it. Just barely grazing it with the edges of her teeth.

Hands held tightly down to the floor, all Emma could do was writhe against the hand holding her. But Regina was either too strong or else she was too weak, her mind and body hazy and overcome with lust, so eventually she stopped struggling. "Good, girl," She felt hot breath whisper against the cool skin of her chest, followed by an even hotter tongue. Emma groaned, managing to contain the volume, but her body trembled and her head spun as Regina's tongue toyed mercilessly with her nipple.

"Since you seemed to take such issue with me using my hands," Regina purred, "I think that's all I'll use inside you, dear." Slowly, leisurely, lithe fingers began toying with the waistband of her underwear.

"God," Emma gasped, spreading her legs wider to encourage her lover. "...Regina..."

With an amused chuckle, Regina took the hint, snaking her hand completely under the garment and quickly cupping Emma's sex. Shuddering, Emma fought again at the hand keeping her pinned, though Regina suspected it was more a reflex than anything else. Laving her tongue in a heated path over Emma's chest, she brought her teeth over to her second nipple, and bit down. Not roughly, but not entirely gently either.

The sheriff flushed a delightful shade of pink, her teeth sinking into her own lower lip to muffle her cries. Regina's tongue flicked back and forth over the bit of flesh between her teeth before finally releasing it. Only to suck deeply on it a second later, at the same moment two of her fingers began to mercilessly circle Emma's clit.

"Oh, god!" the sheriff gasped, eyes gone wide as her head fell back against the floor. Another dark chuckle, and then, finally, Regina slid her fingers inside of her, quickly, deeply, and without preamble. It was Emma's turn to bite back a scream. Groaning with abandon, her head fell back against the floor, eyes glazing over with lust. God, Regina felt amazing inside of her. Her fingers never seemed to stop moving. Turning, twisting, thrusting. Hitting every sweet spot with each glorious, deep thrust. She groaned again with every exhale, knowing with how worked up she was- hell, how worked up she'd been all day- it wouldn't take long.

She was already getting feverishly close, just needing that one tiny bit more, that one final push that would send her crashing over the edge of orgasm. Regina released her breast to grin up at her, watching every movement of her face. Her lips pulled back, and Emma almost whimpered. She knew what Regina was waiting for. She shook her head, refusing. She would not give in.

The mayor only chuckled, taking the other nipple between her teeth, flicking the very tip of it with her tongue.

Emma squeaked. A third finger slid within her, and she bucked into the touch without warning. "Regina, please!" she cried, and the first wave of her orgasm came crashing down around her. Full lips moved to cover her own, and the following moans and screams and whimpers of her pleasure were swallowed by the kiss. Regina's fingers continued to work inside of her, drawing out every last second of ecstatic bliss. She whimpered and screamed, cried and moan out in ecstasy into the kiss as her climax overcame her, her legs gripping fingers as tightly as they could as she shook and shuddered around them.

Finally, after what seemed like years, Regina withdrew, Emma's breath growing heavy and labored against her lips, and she pulled back to look down at the sheriff with an extremely satisfied grin.

Emma lay collapsed on the floor, blood rushing in her ears, her vision swimming as the final pulses swept through her body. "Wow," was all she could gasp out, and an amused chuckle sounded beside her ear.

"Enjoy that?" Regina murmured, her own breathing still not completely settled. With her eyes still on the blonde, she brought her wet fingers to her lips. Slowly. She wanted to be sure Emma was watching. The slightly whimpering moan of arousal confirmed that she was. Regina cleaned her fingers hungrily, drinking in the taste of her lover with vigor. She was not, she realized as she took in the last of that taste, sated. She wanted more. Perhaps more directly, no that the 'no hands' rule had completely been thrown out the window. Looking down, she idly stroked her hand up and down Emma's torso, lightly running her fingernails across still flushed skin, enjoying the shiver they provoked. "I know I did," she finished.

Regina's voice was darker than usual, more husky, and the sound of it made Emma's insides quiver with desire anew. She groaned pitiably. Intrigued, the mayor raised an eyebrow, watching Emma's pupils- still dilated with lust. The shifting of her breathing. Apparently she wasn't the other one who wanted more. She grinned, and traced her fingers teasingly just below the blonde's stomach. "Again, dear?"

Taking a steadying breath, Emma turned from her supine position to rest on her side, propping her head up on her arm. She smirked. "If you think you can keep up."

Regina's eyes narrowed, but the sparkle behind them revealed her pleasure. "Is that a challenge, Miss Swan?"

"Hell, yes." And she rose onto still slightly shaking knees to once again straddle the other woman, leaning down to press another kiss to lips she could taste herself on.

* * *

><p>A knock sounded on the door, freezing both women in their places. "Um... Mom?" called out a child's voice through the door. "I heard weird noises. ...Are you okay?"<p>

Regina hissed a swear word. Of course the one night Henry actually bothered to care enough to check up on her was when she- she sighed, and then moved. She practically threw Emma off of her, rolling out from under the other woman with entirely too much ease. "Yes, Henry!" she called, voice ragged but controlled. "I just... had a nightmare."

"Oh." A pause. "Okay then. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Henry," Regina called, and once again Emma envied the calmness of her voice, the evident evenness of her pulse. Her own was racing.

Regina waited a few minutes, barely even breathing, and then she rose from the floor. Straightening and then re-situating her bra and soaked panties to actually attempt to be of some use, she began collecting the scattered articles of her clothing, pulling them on without a word.

After a beat or two, Emma fumed, and did the same. Damn, Henry. She loved the kid, of course, but he was sure turning out to be a hell of a cockblock. She tugged her jeans up and over her hips without any help. Which is good, because from the icy look on Regina's face, she didn't think any would be offered. Once jeans and tank were back on, Emma looked around hopelessly for her jacket and boots, before realizing she'd taken them off downstairs. "Shit," she muttered.

As if realizing her plight, Regina just rolled her eyes, and reached for the bag that she'd brought in the room with her. Emma had long since forgotten about it. To her shock, boots and jacket were pulled out and tossed to the end of the bed unceremoniously. "You're as bad as Henry about leaving your things everywhere," Regina said in reply to Emma's stupefied stare, before turning towards her vanity and running her fingers through her hair.

"Uh... sorry?" Her apology was awkward, hushed so that their son wouldn't hear and nearly forced out of her lips. She pulled on her boots, re-lacing them in record time. Sighing, Regina just brushed past her and moved to open the window. The window. For her to crawl out of, no doubt. Emma looked at it, then back to Regina, incredulous. "No. Fucking. Way."

"Miss Swan-" the mayor began, a warning building in the back of her throat.

Emma wasn't having it, pulling on her jacket with a glare that rivaled her lover's. "There is no way in hell I'm sneaking out your fucking window, Regina! What are you going to do, push me?"

For a moment, the expression on the older woman's face was enough to suggest that yes, she might actually consider it. But it died after a few minutes, to Emma's relief. "No, I suppose not," Regina sighed. "My hedges have suffered enough damage due to you."

Emma flushed at the reminder, shoving her hands in her pockets. "Whatever."

With an icy glare, Regina gave a long-suffering sigh and brushed past her again, unlocking the door to her room and pausing to listen at it before silently opening. Henry's door was shut, all lights in the house turned off. "Come on, then," she whispered, and slid out of her room with catlike grace.

Emma followed, less gracefully, but still managing to make very little noise as they both crept down the stairs. Even though it upped the risk of her running into stray bits of furniture, she was suddenly thankful the house was dark. She knew the blush on her cheeks was probably quite noticeable indeed. Of all the scenarios that had run through her head when she first came to Storybrooke, fucking and then tiptoeing out of the house of her son's adopted mother had never even crossed her mind. Though, she realized with a pang of fresh desire, she would do it again in a heartbeat.

Glancing up the hall in case Henry should get curious again, Emma gave a quiet sigh of relief when she reached the door. Regina opened it, standing just inside the door as Emma slid outside. Silent.

"Well... this isn't awkward at all." Emma sighed, preparing to make the uncomfortable walk to her car, drive home, drown her conflicting emotions with a stiff drink or four, and pass out.

Regina nodded, pressing her head against the cool wood of the door. Quietly, she whispered with a ghost of a smirk, "It was a ...lovely evening, Miss Swan. We should do it again sometime."

Blinking, the Sheriff stared at her, raising an eyebrow. "'A lovely evening?' That's what you're going with? Even after you didn't get your way?"

An all-too-familiar dark laugh. "Oh,_ Emma_," Regina smirked all out now, that same dangerous twinkle coming into her eye. "Who said I didn't get exactly what I wanted?"

From the bag she'd brought with her down the stairs, Regina pulled out the last of its contents and tossed the item to the Sheriff flippantly.

Catching it, Emma's eyes widened. The keys to her bug. "What the-?"

Regina shushed her with a glare. "I couldn't exactly have Henry wake up and see your car still out front, dear. I parked it outside the station." With a little shrug, she smirked, and began to close the door. "I hope you enjoy the walk."

Emma was still staring in shock at her keys when the door closed. Regina... had driven her car? She had to laugh at that idea, and could just imagine the older woman wrinkling her nose at the state of her beat-up little vehicle as she steered it distastefully down the streets of Storybrooke. So that's where Regina had gone.

A few long seconds passed by, staring at her keys and then the door of the house. And sighed. "...Goddamnit!" Emma huffed, and resigned herself to her walk. Uncomfortably. She was still really damn aroused. And annoyed, irritated, and even more sexually frustrated than before. Somehow, she wondered if Regina had somehow planned for Henry to come barging in on them. But no parent would actually plan that, right?

…Right?

At the end of the hedge row, she paused and turned back to look at the house, glancing automatically for Regina's window. The curtains were open, and in the dim light of the lamp, she could just make out the sight of Regina once again removing her clothes. Emma couldn't help it.

She watched.

**FIN**

* * *

><p><em>AN: So that's the end! I'd like to thank everyone who's favorited, followed, or even just read this story, with special thanks to my lovely reviewers. Reading your comments always brightens my day. I'm so glad so many of you have enjoyed this story. It's been a lot of fun to write._

_Ta-ta for now,_

_~M_

__(And just as a moment of clarification: I am fully aware that Regina is not a pale woman. When, at the end of the first chapter of this story, Emma dreams of "pale skin and black lace," the skin in question is that of Regina's breasts and ass, which, as mentioned in that chapter, are "paler than the rest of her.")__


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